


Nothing Else Matters

by 16Sydd16



Series: Only You [2]
Category: Little Mix (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, Drama, F/F, F/M, Gen, I'm So Excited, OT4, Popstars, did I say drama??, gxg, little mix - Freeform, no one else can fix me only you, pesy - Freeform, sequel to only you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2020-10-10 07:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/16Sydd16/pseuds/16Sydd16
Summary: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Actually, it was the very best of times, and then shortly after it was the absolute worst of times.And it's all Perrie's fault.Can she fix it? Will She even try?Sequel to (no one else can fix me) Only You.





	1. can't let nobody's words be the why we ain't speaking

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
Finally, here's the sequel to (no one else can fix me) Only You.  
If you haven't read that yet, I'd give that a read first, so that this makes sense:)  
Thank you so much for sticking with this story, and I hope you enjoy!!  
Dialogue at the beginning of the chapter is taken directly from this interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVhlRvtjjSI  
xx

“ So here’s your chance to explain the truth ,” I watch the interviewer say on my little phone screen, hear her thick New Zealand accent in my bulky headphones. There’s a little delay, so I pause and unpause, hoping that’ll fix the problem. It does. 

If only all my problems were that easy to fix.

The first couple true and false questions pass easily, and while Jade and Jesy are clearly very tired, they seem to be having a nice time. Jade’s all too happy to talk about her  _ hilarious _ instagram post, and Jesy’s clearly content to just listen, even though Jade’s talked about nothing else for the last few days. 

Once Jade’s finished, the interviewer moves on to the next true/false headline.

“ Little Mix’s Jesy and Perrie get together all the time when they’re drunk _ . _ ”

From the moment our names are mentioned together, you can see the way Jesy’s face falls. Just the tiniest bit, but you can tell. Or at least, I can. Maybe it won’t be evident to someone who hasn’t spent hours pining after Jesy and her gorgeous face, but I can tell. I know Jade can tell as well, even though she’s purposefully avoiding Jesy’s gaze. It’s almost as if you can see the energy shift in the room, like all the air has been sucked out. Jade looks like she wants to speak, but what can she say without seeming suspicious? This question doesn’t have anything to do with her, after all. 

Jesy recovers from the surprising query quickly, almost too quickly. 

She clicks her tongue. “No, that’s a lie,” she says, the word  _ lie _ sounding funny as it rolls off her tongue. “We’ve-We’ve had a kiss once,” she says, staring off in a way that makes it seem like she’s waiting for words to materialize in the air in front of her. “And…” she trails off, and even though I’m the one who’s done this to her, I’m the cause of her pain, I ache for her. I want so badly to wipe the confused look from her face, want to replace it with one of her radiant smiles. She’s absolutely gorgeous- striking, even- but she looks proper goofy when she really smiles, and there’s nothing I’d rather see than a big, toothy grin stretched across her face. 

Instead, when I look at her, all I can see is the mess I’ve made. 

“All friends do stuff like that,” Jade says when Jesy loses her words, trying to play it off. 

I become irrationally angry with Jade, especially considering she’s doing exactly what I’ve asked her to. 

After the shitshow that was our second night on James Corden, management had a cow and flew us back to England immediately for a label meeting. They demanded to know  _ what exactly was going on _ , and  _ what we were trying to do _ , and  _ blah blah blah _ . It was decided then that we’d go back to treating the situation like we did before, pretending nothing’s really happened. Well, nothing of substance, anyway.

I remember just about every moment of that meeting, every awful thing we discussed, even though I’d like nothing more than to forget it. I’d like nothing more than to forget the last few weeks, go back to how Jesy and I were before I messed everything up. 

But instead I’m here, pining after her and watching videos of her like a creeper as we sit on either side of Leigh and Jade on the plane. 

A look up at Jesy shows she’s passed out, clearly exhausted. They had to bring someone in to give her IV fluids twice this trip, and I know they’ve given her something to help her sleep on the flight home. 

The armrest between her and Jade has been raised, and Jesy’s curled into Jade, as she always seems to be nowadays. I feel my jealousy flare, even though I know I have no right to be jealous. 

Jade catches my eye, leveling me with a look that could almost be pitying. Somehow, this is worse than the angry glares she’s been sending my way at every opportunity. She’s still not speaking to me, and I don’t blame her. I’m the only one to blame here. 

Jesy still says things like  _ hello  _ and  _ goodbye _ . She never touches me, though. No hug, no handshake, no nothing. I guess a handshake would be sort of ridiculous at this point, considering how intimately we know one another, and a hug would just be too… hard. 

I feel a hand on my leg and I start, my whole body lifting out of my chair for a minute before I settle, realizing it’s just Leigh. 

“Try to sleep, Pezza,” she tells me, giving me the same sad smile she always gives me nowadays. “There’s nothing to be done right now, yeah? It’s time to sleep. You can worry about things when we’re back in England.”

I nod my head at her and give her my most-convincing smile, which is not at all convincing if the sad look she gives me in return is any indication.

She tucks the complimentary plane blanket around me a little tighter before rolling over and making her own attempt at sleep. 

I roll towards the window, not wanting to torture myself with looking at the actual Jesy any longer. Instead, I go back to the Jesy on my screen, scrubbing the video back to catch up on what I missed while I was staring at actual Jesy.

“It’s actually a very embarrassing story,” screen Jesy says. You can tell she’s pulling words out of thin air at this point, ‘cos she doesn’t look like she means anything that’s saying. She’d just come off as tired to anyone else, but I know better. 

“Um, but, ‘cos Perrie’s not here I actually can’t share the story, because I don’t know that she would  _ allow _ me to share it.”

Ouch. I’m not sure if that’s meant to be a dig, but it feels like one. Whether it is or not, she has every right to say what she said. If I had just allowed her to speak truly about our relationship the first time, then we wouldn’t be in this giant mess. 

“But, we’ve only kissed once, and, yeah,” she lies, looking distracted. The camera cuts just as she says something else. I’m dying to know what it is, but I know that, if it’s been cut, it must’ve been something incriminating about the time we were together. Our team is being much more careful about the content we put out nowadays, and I know that whatever Jesy said must not have made the final  _ Modest! _ approved cut. 

I decide to switch off youtube then and just pop on some soft piano music to try and get to sleep. 

10 minutes into my attempt, I know I’ll be unsuccessful. I am consumed with the need to know what Jesy said once the camera cut. I already know all there is to know about our relationship, obviously, but this is the first thing she’s said regarding me since our very public ending on the  _ Late Late _ stage. I want to know what she’s said and why management thought it was too dangerous to let her say it. 

In theory I could ask Jade, but in actuality, there’s no way I can ask Jade. And even if I did, it’s not like she’d tell me anything. She’s right pissed at me still, and we haven’t spoken since she came to chew me out. Asking her a question like this would only get me another tongue lashing, or maybe an  _ actual _ lashing. She’s always been quite protective over Jesy, but I’d never realized how protective until recently. 

I could ask Leigh to ask Jade, but I can’t imagine that would go well either. Leigh’s been very good about being non-judgemental, and being there for me when I need her, but I know she wouldn’t approve of this, much less help me do it. 

I could call the media outlet, or email them, but I doubt the video exists in its entirety anymore. I’m sure  _ Modest! _ had the tapes scrubbed immediately. 

That leaves me with only one person who could and maybe would give me the answer, and I can’t imagine asking her. Not after all I’ve put her through. 

Still, the thought keeps bouncing around in my brain as I try my best to get a couple hours rest. 

I accidently wake Leigh up about midway through the flight with my constant leg shaking. 

“Pezza, what’s going on?” Leigh asks tiredly. I can tell she’s trying to be kind, but even she has her limits. She’s at the end of her rope for her patience with me. 

“Just can’t quit thinkin’,” I say dumbly. “My brain’s going too fast.”

“Maybe you should take something, then,” she suggests gently, probably noticing the bit of sweat that’s broken out above my brow. 

“It makes me all fuzzy,” I say, but I can hear the nerves in my voice, the way I’m speaking too fast. 

“You can sleep it off once we get home,” Leigh says, softly but with mounting urgency. “A plane is a really bad place to have an anxiety attack,” she reminds me, kind but firm. I know she’s only looking out for me, so I agree.

“Where are your pills?” She asks. 

“In my bag, in the overhead. Front pouch,” I say, my tone clipped. 

Leigh jumps out of her seat immediately, fatigue and all, and quickly retrieves two little while pills, completely round and smaller than a baby tooth. 

“Here you are,” she says, holding them out to me, along with a half empty bottle of water. 

“Sorry, it’s all I’ve got,” she says when she sees me eyeing the bottle. 

“No, it’s fine,” I say quickly. I take the pills and toss them in my mouth before I have the time to think too much, swallowing them down. 

“How long does it take them to start working?” Leigh asks, placing the water bottle in the seat pocket in front of me when I hand it to her. 

“Half an hour or so,” I say. “Especially with how tired my body is.”

“Alright then,” she says with a yawn. “I’ll wait up with you.”

“You don’t have to do that, Leigh. I-”

“I want to, Pezza. You’re my best friends, one of  _ my  _ girls. I know this hasn’t been easy on you, and I’m here for you, alright?” She says, taking my hand in hers. “Things are gonna work out alright, babe. It just takes time, a bit of effort, and a little help. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I agree with the best smile I can manage. I’m not sure I believe her, but I’m beyond grateful that she’s trying. 

By the time I wake, we’re landing on the runway. I’m foggy, like I knew I’d be, but Leigh helps me with my things, makes it so I don’t have to do much but put my hat back on and exit the plane. 

We walk through the airport pretty much unimpeded, mostly because it’s not even 5am yet. Our fans are dedicated, but we were originally supposed to be on a later flight, and many likely don’t know of the change. 

Still, somehow a few are there, and we greet them and take photos. Leigh stays by my side the whole time, knowing that I won’t be much of a conversationalist. She and Jade go for coffee. Normally, they’d be hesitant to leave Jes and I alone together, but Jade can see that I’m in no condition to really do much of anything. 

Leigh’s been carrying my backpack for me, but even in my state, I know that if she has my backpack as well as her purse and her backpack, she won’t have enough hands for coffee. 

“It’s alright, Leigh, leave it here. I can take it,” I insist, speaking my first words since I woke up. They come out a little slow, but it is 4:47am, so Leigh doesn’t think twice, and hands me my bag. 

I immediately get it settled on my back, but after a time, the weight starts to become too much. Jesy notices, even behind her hood and glasses, and tries to take it from me. 

I yank it away from her, but she’s a lot stronger than me, and easily keeps hold. 

“C’mon, Pezza,” she says tiredly. “Lemme help.”

I nod my head and stop fighting her. She slips the bag from my grasp and shoulders it easily, even though she has her own backpack to contend with. 

“Thank you,” I say quietly, wanting to say so much more, but my brain is still moving slow and I can’t find my words. 

“No problem,” she says softly. I can tell she means it, and I want to cry at her feet, beg her forgiveness for all of the terrible things I’ve put her through, but before I can fall to the ground, Leigh is back, handing me some sort of pasty. 

“Eat this, it’ll help,” she says, wrapping an arm around me and guiding me toward the terminal where our car is waiting. She keeps hold of me the entire walk, which is good, because I stumble more than once.

I manage a couple bites here and there, but I still feel so hungover from the medicine that I can’t stomach more than that. 

We reach the cars after what feels like the longest walk of the century. 

“Are you gonna be alright?” Leigh asks, buckling me in like one would a small child.

“You’re not coming with me?” I ask, sad.

“I can if you wan-” 

“No, she can’t,” Jade interrupts. “She and Jes live in East Central, and you and I live in West. She’s gotta go in the car behind us.”

I look between the two of them nervously. 

“Jade-”

“I know, I know, Leigh. I’ll look after her. Jes has already had this talk with me, you needn’t worry,” Jade says, bringing a hand up to rub at her face. 

“Hey, wait-” Jesy says, walking up to the car. “This, ah, this is Perrie’s bag,” she tells Jade. 

I can see Jade wants to ask her what exactly she’s doing carrying my things, but Jesy looks awful, so Jade holds her tongue. I can’t tell if she’s sad, or sick, or tired, or some combination of the three, but she doesn’t look well. 

And she still carried my bag for me. 

After everything. 

If I had the strength, I might get out of the car and lay in the road, wait to be run over like I deserve. 

But at this point, I can barely keep my eyes open. 

I manage a quiet  _ thank you _ , and keep my head up long enough to watch Jesy nod and walk away. 

Leigh follows her, but not before kissing my head and telling me to  _ call if you need me, seriously. _

Jade makes quick work of our bags, helping the car service men load them in, and then she opens the door opposite me and slides into the seat. 

“You look like shit” is the first thing that Jade says to me. Her words are harsh, but her tone belies a bit of worry. 

This is massive progress, though, her talking to me at all, so I try to keep her talking. 

“Feel like it, too,” I say, trying for a laugh but only managing a little cough. 

“Are you taking care of yourself?” Jade asks almost accusingly. 

“Sort of,” I admit, shrugging my shoulders. “It’s been really hard to sleep. And to, uh, stay calm.”

Jade says nothing, but when I look up, I find her stare already on me. 

She studies me a minute before blowing out a big breath.

“I’m here if you need me, alright? I know I’ve been quite… cold to you, since the whole thing with you and Jes, and I’m still mad about it, but if she can be nice, then I can… try. But I’m still mad. Okay?”

“Yeah, Jade, I get it,” I say, leaning against the door and curling in on myself. 

We spend the rest of the ride in silence, but it’s not as harsh a silence as I’m used to enduring as of late. I won’t say it's comfortable, but it’s not tense, either. Just… quiet. 

We pull up to her house first, and she undoes her seatbelt. 

“Perrie,” she starts, before biting at her lip. 

“Yeah, Jade?” I ask, looking up at her. I want her to ask me the question, even if I’m not sure I want to answer it. 

“Why’d you do it?” She asks, looking angry, frustrated, and, more than anything, exhausted. 

I don’t think a single member of Little Mix has had a full night’s sleep since my stunt on James Corden. 

“I got scared,” I say, ever so quietly. “Of everyone knowing. I’m so in love with Jesy, and the last time I was this in love, I- I can’t handle hurt like that again, Jade. It  _ will _ kill me. And with the media knowing? That was the downfall of Zayn and I. It was too much pressure. And that was when I was in a Heteronormative, fan-favorite sort of relationship. Can you imagine the pressure they’d put on us? On all four of us? Do you really think we could last?”

“I don’t know, Pezza,” Jade says. “But we were all willing to risk it, for you.”

She starts to close the door, but throws it back open. 

“Why didn’t you just tell Jes how you were feeling?”

“She was so excited,” I say, though it’s not a great excuse. “And I just- I spiralled so quickly, from everything being fine and lovely to the band breaking up and everyone blaming it on me and Jesy hating me, hating me for everything, and everything was just starting to move too fast in my brain and it all got too much and-”

“Breathe, Pez,” Jade says, hands firmly grasping my shoulders. “In, out. In, out.”

I try my hardest to match my breathing to hers, and after a couple minutes, I’m successful. 

After I’m nearly back to normal, Jade removes her hands and gathers her bag. I’m sure the driver is becoming impatient, but he says nothing, so I pay him no mind. 

“Are you still seeing Lindsey?” She asks. 

“Not since about a month before Jesy and I took up,” I tell her honestly. 

“Might be time to schedule another appointment then, yeah? Just a catch up. It would probably be good to get an outside perspective, you know? Help you sort out all the stuff inside,” she says sincerely. 

I nod. 

“Perrie, promise you’ll call her and set up an appointment? Please?” Jade pleads, and I can see that she’s really worried about me. 

“Yeah, okay,” I say. “I’ll call her.”

“Soon,” Jade adds. 

“Soon.” I nod. 

“Alright, then. I’ll see you monday. And I will answer your texts, so if you feel like you’re gonna do something stupid, please text, or call, alright? I’m here for you, even if I’m still sorta mad,” she says softly. 

“Thank you, Jadey,” I say, reaching my arms towards her, thrilled to have gone from  _ you look like shit _ to  _ sorta mad _ in the span of a single car ride.

She obliges my request, and squeezes me tightly before letting me go just as quick.

But not without a kiss to the crown of my head. 

“Call her,” she says in lieu of a goodbye, and she shuts the door. 

I mean to call her once I get home, I really do, but I’m too tired to do anything but take my shoes off and flop into bed. 

I wake up less hungover, but somehow just as tired, around noon. I call Linsdey’s office, but get sent to the answering machine. It is lunchtime, after all. 

“Hey,” I start after the  _ beep _ . “This is, ah, Perrie. Perrie Edwards. I was hoping to get in to see Linds- uh, Doctor Drummich. The sooner the better. Just, ah, give me a call back when you can. Thanks.”

Once that’s done, I decide it’s time to eat. Cooking might be a nice distraction, anyway. 

I don’t have a lot by way of fresh ingredients, as I’ve been out of the country for most of the last few months, but I’ve got a bevvy of frozen items. 

I decide on something with potato mash, and end up just eating chicken nuggets with it. 

So much for cooking. 

I settle onto the couch with my nuggets (I put them in the oven, at least) and mash, and flick through TV channels. I’m watching old episodes of  _ Neighbours _ and trying to figure out if Margot Robbie is actually human when my phone rings.

“Hello?” I say absentmindedly, around a mouthful of potato. 

“Uh, Miss Edwards? This is Julie, calling from Doctor Drummich’s office.”

“Oh, hi!” I say, choking down my last bit of potato. “Hi, sorry.”

“It’s alright. I just received your call, and I’ve talked with Doctor Drummich. She can see you tomorrow at 3:30. Will that work for you?”

“Uh, yeah, tomorrow is fine,” I say, trying to think. “I don’t think I have anything then.”

“Excellent. We’ll see you tomorrow then?” Julie asks, clearly eager to be done with our call. I can’t blame her. She probably has this same conversation like, 50 times a day. 

“Yeah, see you tomorrow. Thanks,” I say. 

“No problem,” she says, “Goodbye.”

“Bye,” I say, and hang up the phone. 

Alright, well. I guess that’s a step in the right direction. 

I check my digital calendar just to be sure, but I am totally free tomorrow. 

It’s sort of nice, but at the same time, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself. 

I mean, now I’m going to therapy, obviously, but this is the first few days we’ll have had COMPLETELY off since Jes and I broke up.

I had hoped to be spending all my days off for the rest of my life in bed with her, but that isn’t going to happen.

So what am I gonna do?

I spend the rest of the day watching garbage television and trying to do a bit of writing, but I’m just not motivated. 

I finish a bottle of wine by myself, and I’m tucked into bed by 10:30.

Because of all the wine, I stay in bed until about 11:30 the next morning. After that, I hop in the shower, and then do a bit of laundry while I watch tv. Soon enough, it’s 3:00, and I start my journey to Lindsey’s office. 

I walk, because it’s nice out and I’ve got the time, but also because I’m full of nervous energy. 

I arrive at the office at 3:27 and check in, before picking up an old glamour magazine and having a seat. 

Right on the dot at 3:30, Lindsey’s office door opens, and her previous appointment walks out. 

I look up and smile at the girl as she walks out and I walk in. I see a look of recognition grace her face, but she’s kind enough to just smile and tell me she loves our music.

I thank her with a tight smile and tell her to have a nice day, closing Lindsey’s office door behind me as I enter. 

I lean against it once it’s closed, and blow out a breath. 

Lindsey greets me with a smile, countenance placid as always, and stands up. 

I walk over to her and give her a hug, squeezing her tight. 

We’ve known each other for about three years now, and Lindsey learned during our second appointment that my love language is physical touch when I went for the hug at the end of the appointment, and she went for the handshake. 

She’s not super touchy feely.

But, she is my friend, and my therapist, so she always obliges. 

“You alright?” She asks when we pull back, still holding me by the shoulders. 

She must know I’m not, hence my visit here, but I still appreciate that she asks.

“Been better,” I say simply, letting her lead me over to the little couch in her room.

She settles on the right side and I on the left, both of us tucking our feet up under us to sit more comfortably. 

Lindsey’s dressed in a particularly professional way today, in a full suit and pumps, which must mean she had some sort of meeting, or a board interview. She’s usually in a black dress, or her favorite denim jumpsuit, with some keds or vans or ankle boots. When we meet outside of regular hours, she’ll even wear workout gear or jeans and a tee. I’m not used to seeing her this dressed up.

“Who were you trying to impress today?” I ask, motioning to the patent leather shoes she’s just kicked off in an effort to be more comfortable.

“Practice meeting, with the other doctors. And three members of the board! So, I had to look the part today. They don’t quite trust me. Not sure if it’s cause they’re afraid I’ll bewitch them with my feminine wiles-” she says, and I snort. “Or if it’s the whole American thing. Something about my midwestern face sets them on edge,” she says with a laugh, before fiddling with her belt. “Ugh, I cannot  _ wait _ to get out of this thing.”

“It suits you,” I say honestly. It does.

“Well, thank you,” she says, “but I don’t suit it. I feel… restricted.” She says, tugging at her fully buttoned collar. “Now, I know you didn’t just turn up for a chat today, because I haven’t heard from you in months. Which is good! ‘Cause, obviously, that means you’ve felt good. So, what’s going on?”

“Have you watched the news at all? Seen my… confusing behaviour on American television?” I ask with a groan. 

“Better yet, I was back home visiting my parents, who never miss the Late Late show, so I saw it live,” she says with a grimace. 

“Ugh,” is all I say in response, burying my head in my hands. 

“So this is about what I think this is about, then?” She asks me. 

“Well, that depends. What do you think it’s about?” I ask. 

“I’m not supposed to speculate-”

“Oh come off it, Lindsey. You know you want to,” I sing song.

“Alright, alright,” she says, looking all too happy to tell me what she thinks. “I think that you and a certain band member of yours did have a thing, and that you messed up, and now you’re sad and she’s mad. Am I close?” She finishes, sounding less excited than before.

“Close enough,” I say. 

“Oh, come on, Perrie. You’ve gotta give me more than that,” she says with a roll of the eyes. 

I could call her out for being unprofessional, but her unprofessionalism is one of the reasons I love her so much. Talking with Lindsey never feels clinical, and this is no exception. 

“So, it all started… shit, I don’t know. Right before we left on our European press tour. Jesy came over to my house, ‘cos…” I trail off, trying to remember exactly how things went down. I had a  _ lot  _ to drink that night, afterall, and- “-oh, it was ‘cos she and Chris broke up. Yeah, that was it. Anyway, we ordered a bunch of food and drank way too much rum and then one thing led to another and we kissed. And then we just… never stopped, I guess. We’d had little hiccups here and there, and then Simon found out and there was a whole thing, and  _ Modest!  _ found us fake boyfriends, some of  _ your _ country’s footballers, and we just dated in secret for a while. And then they gave us an ultimatum, a  _ come out now or never _ sort of thing, and Jesy was all for it, and I was too, until I… wasn’t. I just, I went to a really negative place and my thoughts started to spiral really quickly and I made some rash decisions and I screwed everything up, and I hurt her. And the worst part is, she’s not even that mad at me, just sad. Jade’s right pissed, though. But this whole thing has driven a wedge in the group, and I broke promises that I promised I wouldn’t break, and now I’m back in a bad place,” I explain quickly. 

“What changed? When you got to the point where you weren’t “all for it,” as you said. Were you all for it before that?” Linsdey asks, never one to waste time. 

“I don’t know. I don’t…” I start, gathering my thoughts. Lindsey gives me plenty of time to think, just waiting patiently until I’m ready to talk. “I was all for being with Jesy, always. From our first sort of accidental kiss, I knew there was something different. I wanted her all the time,” I say.

Lindsey wiggles her eyebrows at me. 

“Not like that, you perv,” I say, sneering at her as my face goes red. 

“It’s okay for it to be like that, Perrie. But I’m guessing it wasn’t just that,” she says with a knowing look. 

“No, it wasn’t. I just wanted to be with her all the time. I wanted sex, yeah, but I also wanted to wake up with her in my arms every morning. I wanted to make her tea everyday when she got home from her run, and have her gripe at me about how it’s too sweet. I wanted to make funny faces at her in the mirror while we practiced our routines and try to get her to crack up. I wanted to hold her when she cried over the stories on telly about displaced children. I wanted  _ everything _ ,” I say, my chest suddenly tight. 

“Do you still?” Lindsey asks me. 

“What?” I ask, a little confused. “Do I still what?”

“Do you still want everything?” Lindsey asks me seriously. 

“Undoubtedly,” I say after a moment’s pause, waiting to speak until I’d found the perfect word. 

“Well then, I think you need a plan.”

  
  



	2. we lose our way, let the world start to creep in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesy is there for Perrie during her dark times.  
Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter!

Lindsey’s words echo in my mind for the rest of the night.  _ I think you need a plan _ . And I do. We talked about it a bit more during our session, why I was so afraid and how I needed to work to get over that. Lindsey reminded me that I need to sort things out myself before I try to add another person to the mix again, but all I’ve been thinking about is what I can do to make it up to Jesy. 

Grand gestures are nice and all, but Jesy is a girl who appreciates the little, everyday things. Plus, if I go for the grand gesture straight away, that’s kinda knobby, isn’t it? So, I decide to start slowly working my way back into her good graces, and eventually her heart, on Monday. I’ll do nice things for Leigh and Jade too, because it’s important that I repair the friendships I’ve screwed up as well. 

I show up for our session on monday a little late but with tea and biscuits for all and am received warmly. 

“Thank you, Pezza!” Leigh says excitedly as she takes her cup, wrapping me in a tight hug. 

“Thanks, Perrie,” Jade offers with a little smile from her side of the table.

Jesy turns her gaze to meet mine, and I swear I can’t breathe. I somehow manage to bridge the physical gap between us, and I hand her her cup. 

“Thank you, Perrie,” Jesy says softly. I feel physical pain, right in my gut, when I look in her eyes. 

“No problem,” I say with a nod. “It’s, ah- hopefully it’s not too sweet. I told them double milk and half sugar, so…”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” she says with a tight smile, surely remembering our little tea dates nearly every morning. I’ve been able to think of nothing else since I picked these up on the way here.

“Okay, now that we’re all properly energized, let’s get down to business,” Leigh says, motioning to the empty seat on the side of the small square table between her and Jade. 

“Sounds good,” I say, quickly taking my seat. 

The session isn’t too awkward, even though it is a little painful, and we get a fair amount of work done. 

Leigh leaves first, then Jesy, and Jade and I wait for our cars to arrive. 

“Did you give Lindsey a call?” Jade asks once we’re alone. 

“Yeah. I went to see her on Friday,” I say with a nod. 

“Good,” Jade says. “I-”

She’s cut off by the sound of my phone ringing. 

At first I think it’s just the driver letting me know that my car has arrived, but then I notice that the number is American. 

“Jade, I-”

“My car’s here anyway. I’m proud of you for going to see Lindsey so quickly. Later, Pezza,” she says, giving me a quick hug and rushing out of the door. 

I debate for a moment whether to pick up the phone or just let voicemail get it, but ultimately my curiosity gets the best of me. 

“Hello?” 

“Ah, hey, Perrie. It’s Chris. Uh, Christian. McCafrey. Do you have time to talk?”

“Hey, Christian,” I say, surprised but not upset. “I’m actually just on my way out of the studio at the moment. But I can talk now, if you like.”

“Okay, great,” He says quickly. “Thanks, Perrie.”

“No problem,” I reply. “What did you want to speak about?”

“Well, uh, I want to talk about James Corden, if that’s okay. I mean, I know it’s not really any of my business, but Mych and I are fighting, and I just-”

“Why are you and Mych fighting? Wait, hold on a sec,” I say, quickly opening my app and cancelling my driver, then tipping him twice the full fare since he’s probably already here. 

I receive a quick  _ your ride has successfully been cancelled _ notification across the top of my phone, and then put it back to my ear. This is not a conversation I really wanna have on the go, so I settle into the couch in the corner of the writing room. “Sorry, I just had to check something. Go ahead, Christian.” 

And go, he does. He spends the next few minutes speaking in remarkably quick sentences about how  _ I didn’t want you guys to come out because then people would ask questions about us but Jesy called Mych to ask our permission beforehand and he told her to do it and he cried because he was so thrilled at the thought of finally being out in the open but I got mad because I’m scared and then you said the whole thing was a joke and not serious and I was relieved and now Mych’s not talking to me because he thinks I talked you out of it and did I talk you out of it? I’m so sorry if I talked you out of it, Perrie, and-”  _

“Wait, Christian, when would you have talked me out of it?” I ask, confused. 

“I called you, before the performance. You don’t remember?” He asks, sounding just as puzzled as I feel. 

“No, I- well, vaguely- holy shit, did you talk me out of it?” I bumble, trying to connect all the free-floating thoughts in my mind. 

“I don’t know!” He says, frustrated. “I just, I don’t know. I told you I was scared, and you said you were too, and then you mumbled something about Jesy hating you and you just, hung up.”

“Dammit,” I mumble, already feeling my heart thump harder than it should against my throat. “I, ah, I don’t remember, Christian. Even if you told me, it’s not your fault. Hey, can we talk later? I’m a little, uh, I just gotta go,” I say more quickly than I’d like, trying and failing to keep the suffocating feeling from invading my chest. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you, uh, need anything?” He asks, sounding worried.

“No, ah, just some time to think. Sorry. Bye, Christian.”

“Goodbye, Perrie. I hope things get better,” he says just before I punch the button to end the call. 

I look around, petrified of this happening to me in front of someone else, and see that, gratefully, everyone has gone home for the day. We only had one sound mixer and one writer on standby today, and they’re both long gone. 

I try to use the counting technique Lindsey taught me, and then the breathing, and then the tapping, but nothing is helping. 

I rustle through my bag for my rescue medication, but my hands are shaking so hard that I can’t get the bottle open. 

The choking feeling gets worse, and before I know it, I’m curled in a ball on the floor next to my bag, hyperventilating. 

I might notice that someone came in if I was able to notice anything outside of the feeling that I’m dying, that my heart is thumping too fast in my chest and it’s gonna explode. 

I feel a hand on my arm and I jump, letting out a scream and looking for the other presence in the room. 

“Hey, hey,” Jesy says, gripping my upper arm firmly in her hands. “It’s just me, okay? Just me. Pezza, look at me. Look at me,” she says, straddling me. I can see that she’s worried, but I don’t have the brain power to think about anything besides how heavily I’m breathing. I’m not letting the air hit my lungs before I blow it out again, and it’s freaking me out. 

“Can’t breathe,” I manage to huff out in between shallow breaths. “Jes,” I say, holding her gaze, doing my best to wrap my hand around her forearm. I know I must be squeezing too tightly, but I can’t control it

“I’m here, alright? I’m here,” she says softly, but firmly. “Lets try and get you sat up, alright?”

I nod my head, though I don’t know how or why she thinks that’ll help. 

She quickly hops off of me and pulls me up. She comes up behind me, bringing her legs to cradle me and pulling me so that my back is pressed tightly against her chest. She keeps her arms locked around me, even as I shake almost violently.

I start to cry. Whether it's because of how good the physical contact feels or because of the whole panic attack situation. I don’t know. Regardless, I need to stop. Now. It'll only make things worse in the long run. 

As I try to stop the tears, Jes keeps squeezing me tight, breathing slow and humming soft assurances into my temple. It takes me a while to realize that she’s just saying “I’m here, you’re okay, it’ll be okay,” over and over and over. I try to match my breathing to hers, and after some time, it works. Still, Jes doesn’t loosen her hold on me, and I let myself try and relax into her, leaning my head against her shoulder. 

Once the cortisol is no longer flooding my veins, my body sags against hers from the weight of it all. She holds me tighter, keeps humming softly, and presses kisses to my head. 

“Do you feel like you can move to the couch?” She asks gently, once my breathing resembles something normal. 

“Don’t let go of me,” I beg.

“I won’t, promise. I just thought it might be more comfortable, but-”

“Okay,” I say quickly. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she responds, taking my hand in hers before she crawls out from behind me and gets to her feet. She helps pull me up next, before she turns and hops up on the couch. “How do you want to sit, babe?” she asks, pulling me down so I’m sat next to her and then pushing some hair out of my face. It’s only now that I can feel how hot my cheeks are, feel the sticky residue that’s always left behind by tears.

“Just hold me, please,” I beg, not caring how pathetic I sound. 

“Alright,” she says, laying back so she’s propped up by the corner of the couch. I follow her quickly, squeezing her hand tight until I’m able to wrap my arms around her waist. I bury my nose in the hollow of her neck, just under her ear, and take what feels like my first full breath in ages. I can’t help but wonder, if I had a sense of smell, whether Jesy’s scent would be comforting to me. I’d imagine it would be, just as her presence is, so I take a big inhale and pretend I catch her scent. 

“What do you smell like?” I ask shyly. 

I can tell she’s smiling from the way the muscles in her neck tense. 

“What’s it to you?” she asks, squeezing her arms a little tighter around me. I don’t think we can get any closer together than we already are, completely pressed up against one another, and I’m content with that. I haven’t been this close to Jesy in far too long, and I’m going to enjoy it while I can. 

“I’m just wondering. I like the way you feel-”  _ and the way you sound, the way you look, the way you taste _ “-so I just wonder if I’d like the way you smell. I think I would,” I say into her neck. 

“I mean, I can try and describe it to you, but I’m not sure if I can actually do it. You’ve never smelled anything, you know?” 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have an idea of what things smell is like! I can feel when something is warm, so I think I might know what a warm smell is,” I say mock- defensively.

“Well, alright then,” she says with a grin. “Umm, the perfume I wear smells of vanilla, and jasmine, a bit of freesia. Very floral, but still warm. I wear it ‘cos it reminds me of the start of spring, when for two whole weeks everything is sunny and gorgeous and all the flowers are blooming and the trees and it might all be too much if it wasn’t just right. And there’s still the tiniest hint of winter there, maybe enough that you worry it might frost over at night and you still need a jacket on a morning run. But by midday, it’s really lovely, and there’s nothing to worry about. It’s just very spring,” she finishes softly. 

We sit in silence for a few moments, enjoying the closeness that we’ve both craved, even if the reason we’re suddenly close is less than ideal.

“Thank you, Jes,” I say, clinging to her. It sounds like I’m thanking her for her description, but we both know I’m thanking her for so much more. 

“No problem,” she says, voice strained. 

“Just don’t think about it for a bit, okay? Just stay here and hold me, please. I’m an absolute mess without you,” I say, the panic already rising in my voice.

“Okay,” she says simply, arms squeezing me tight again to keep me grounded. “Does, um. Does this happen a lot?”

“Just a couple times, lately,” I lie. The attacks aren’t always this bad, but I’ve had them every other day for the last two weeks. 

“Oh, Pez,” she says, sounding upset. “You have to take care of yourself.”

“I can’t,” I say lamely. 

Jesy blows out a breath and squeezes me impossibly closer. 

“You can’t ruin both of us, Perrie,” she says softly.

“Jesy, I’m so sorry,” I try to say, but I’m crying. “I didn’t-”

“I can’t have this conversation right now, Pezza,” she says, but pulls me closer. “I shouldn’t have said anything. That was uncalled for.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I say, burrowing into her as close as I can. “I fucked up big time. We both know it. And you haven’t done anything even half cross towards me in response. I deserve snide comments, Jes. And, so, so much worse.”

“Well, you’re not gonna get them from me. I still love you too much,” she says, before her eyes go wide. I’m filled with both warmth and dread, knowing she still loves me. You think they’d have a way of equaling out inside of me, but nope. No such luck. I feel everything. 

“Jade, though,” she says, blowing out a breath. 

I laugh. “Yeah, she’s, well. We’re talking again, at least. She, um, she’s the one who convinced me to go back to therapy.”

“You’re seeing Lindsey again?” Jes asks, her countenance so much lighter than it was moments ago. “That’s great, babe.”

“Yeah. I, ah, I know you don’t want to talk about it right now, so we won’t, but um, that night that I, on Corden? I was, ah, I was really in a bad way. Couldn’t sort out all the stuff in my head, and-”

“Then why didn’t you just talk to me about it?” She asks in a burst. I know she didn’t mean to say it, didn’t wanna get in to this tonight, but now that it’s out there? Here we go, I guess. 

“‘Cos you were so excited! And ‘cos there was no time. It all hit me, once we sat on the couch, and then I just did whatever I could to- to make it go away. I couldn’t tell everyone, Jes, I couldn’t. It was too much,” I finish softly, hoping against hope that my words don’t cause her to pull away. 

“Fuck, Perrie. I just- I love you. You know that, right? I love you so bloody much, and the stuff you said on Corden- it really hurt me, okay? It really hurt me. I never told you, but that was my worst fear. That one day, you’d wake up, and just decide that all we had was meaningless, that it was “just a bit of fun,” or whatever. And it would be too late, and I’d already be in love. It was a shitty thing to do, Pez,” she says through tears. 

“I know,” I say, voice wobbly and jaw clenched. 

We both allow for a few moments of silence, to let what has been said sink in, until I can’t stand it any longer. 

“Where do we go from here?” I ask, though I fear the answer. “I miss you.”

“I don’t know where we go, Pez. But I don’t think we can go back,” she says, pulling away from me.

“Jesy, please,” I ask, breathing picking up again as I cling to her harder. 

I can see the conflict in her face, the thought involved in staying vs going. 

She leans down, giving me one last squeeze and planting a quick kiss on my lips before tearing herself away. 

“Are you going to be okay getting home?” she asks sort of coldly, tears leaving little tracks as they fall down her face. 

“I can manage,” I say quietly, doing my best not to curl into a ball on the couch and cry my eyes out. “Thank you, Jesy.”

“‘Course,” she says, with a curt nod of the head. 

She avoids looking in my eyes. 

“I’ll be going, then,” she says, affecting a stony mask and doing her best to pat her tears dry. I want more than anything to take her into my arms and dry her tears myself, but I know I cannot. It wouldn’t be fair to her. I can’t wipe away her tears because I’m the cause of them. 

“Alright. Get home safe,” I say with a small smile. 

She nods, and then turns to leave. 

“Wait, Jes?” I call. 

“Yeah?” She asks, turning around quickly. 

“I still love you. I’m still in love with you. And I’m going to do everything I can to fix this, to make it up to you. I promise.”

“I wish I could believe you, Perrie,” she says, on the verge of tears again. 

“I’m going to do all I can to make myself someone worthy to believing,” I say, my own voice thick. 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust you like I did, Pezza. I don’t know if I can ever be with you like that again,” she says warningly.

“I know,” I say, trying to swallow around the lump in my throat. “I just want my best friend back.”

“I wasn’t the one who left,” she says honestly. It’s the truth, but that doesn’t mean it stings any less. 

“I know,” I say quietly. “So, friends?”

“Sure, Pez.” she says with a sigh. “I can do friends. It might take me a while to get there, though.”

“I understand,” I say with a nod. 

She turns to leave again, but I can’t let her go yet.

“Jesy-” 

“What, Perrie?” she says, a little annoyed. I can’t blame her. The last hour or so has been massively emotionally taxing, for the both of us. 

“Do you wanna go on a run this week? Thursday?” I ask, needing to see her again before our next session on Friday. 

“You hate running,” she says with a little grin. 

“Guitar, then?” I ask, grasping at any straw I can. 

“I don’t play,” she reminds me.

“I know. I wanna teach you,” I say. “Friends can do that, right?”

She pauses for a moment, mulling the thought over. 

“I suppose they can,” she says warily. “But I’m not sure about Thursday. I’ll need to buy a guitar before we get started.”

“I’ll give you one of mine,” I say. “Please, Jes.”

“Yeah, okay. Thursday.” She says, with a shake of the head and the tiniest of smiles. “Bye, Perrie.”

“See you Thursday, Friend,” I say cheesily. 

She shakes her head and gives a little wave before leaving the studio. 

Despite my massive anxiety attack, I feel the best I have in a long time. It was good to finally talk things out with Jes, and I want to tell someone about it. Jade would be the ideal choice, cause she’s the best at seeing the whole picture, but I know she’d be mad. Leigh likely won’t be much help in figuring out what to do next, but it’s worth a shot. 

“Hello?”

“Hiya, Leigh-Leigh.”

“Pez, is everything alright? Did you get home okay?” she asks, sounding concerned.

“I’m still at the studio, actually,” I say lightly, trying to make a mountain into a molehill.

“What happened?” She asks, though it sounds like she already knows. 

“I got a bit, ah, panicked, so I just stayed here a bit.” 

“Pez, do you need-”

“No, I’m okay,” I assure her, and for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t feel like a lie. “I’m all sorted now, gonna head home.”

“Okay,” Leigh says, and I can tell from her tone that she’s not sure if she believes me. “Do you, um, do you wanna come round for dinner tonight? We could-”

“Really Leigh, I’m fine. I swear. Jesy-” I say, before I cut myself off, unsure of how much I want to tell her. 

“Jesy what? Perrie…” She says, disapproval evident in her tone. 

“She, well. Promise you won’t tell Jade?” I ask.

“Perrie, you know I can’t. I’ll try, but. Jade is sneaky. And I’m very bad at keeping secrets,” she reminds me. 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll tell her soon, alright? It’s nothing bad. Jesy just, uh, she forgot her bag and when she came back for it, I was having a full-fledged freak out. Like, the can’t breathe, can’t move sort,” I say, rubbing a hand across the back of my neck as I walk to the garage, where I’ll wait for my car. 

“Perrie,” Leigh says, voice somewhere between chastisement and pity. 

“I’m doing all I can to help myself,” I assure her. “It’s just slow moving.”

I spend the rest of the call going on and on about how Jesy did everything right, how wonderful she is, how much I love her, etc, until Leigh finally interrupts my rambles. 

“Listen, Pezza, I’m happy you’ve talked things out, I really am, but be careful, okay? I know this has been really hard on you, but Jes has been an absolute disaster since everything happened. Jade and I agreed to keep it from you, but I think you need to know. It got like it was all those years ago, Perrie. When we were younger, and she…” Leigh trails off, not needing to finish the sentence for me to know what she’s suggesting. 

“She didn’t-”

“No, no,” Leigh assures me. “She just- it’s the saddest I’ve seen her since then. Just, please be careful with her, Perrie. You know all that shit with her dad really messed her up. She’ll go to the ends of the earth for you, and you need to be willing to do that for her.”

“I am, Leigh. I-” I try, but she interrupts. 

“I know you think you are Pez, I know, but you have to be  _ sure _ . You need to think about what all that means, okay? What going to the ends of the earth would  _ mean _ , okay? Don’t lead her on until you’re sure, alright? Promise me.” She says, sounding deadly serious.

“Okay, okay,” I oblige. “I promise, Leigh.”

“Good. Now, I’ve got to go. Andre and I are going out for dinner. Call me if you need me though, okay? I’m always here.”

“I know. I appreciate it,” I tell her, walking up to my own front door. “Have fun at dinner.”

“We will, babe. Thank you,” Leigh says, always the most polite of the four of us. “See you Friday, love you!”

“Yeah, see you then. Love you too, Leigh-Leigh.”

“Bye, Pezza,” she says, and then hangs up the call. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Alright, so writing this chapter hurt my heart. I just want them to be together again, you know? Also, how cute are they? Ugh. I can't handle it sometimes.  
Don't fret too much about them still being in a... tenuous place with their feelings, dear readers. Our little babeys will find their way.  
Eventually.  
🙈  
Anyway, this chapter has been a LONG TIME COMING. I didn't realize that I hadn't updated since early September😬 Sorry for the wait!  
I don't wanna blab on and on, but I do want to remind you guys that I'll be posting something EVERY DAY this week, so maybe give me a follow?;) or comment what you'd like to see next?  
I hope you guys enjoyed this update, and I'd love to know your thoughts!! What do you think will happen?? what do you want to see next??  
Please leave kudos, comment, and follow, if you'd like to. It would make my day😊  
And if you have a prompt you'd like me to write, send it in!! I'd love to take a crack at it:)  
See you tomorrow to post the next one shot!  
Have a siiiiick (in a good way😜) day!!💕  
xx  
sydd


	3. Look at us now, still you and me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little guitar playing, a little crying... basically just a regular Thursday for me. And for Pesy too!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of a double update bc I'm an idiot who forgot to cross-post this chap. whoops✨

I go to sleep every night waiting for Thursday, and finally, it comes. I wake much earlier than usual, and text Jes to see if she’d still like to come over around noon. 

_ You’re up early _ , she says.  _ Yeah, I’ll probably be there about 12:15. That alright?” _

_ Just eager, I guess, _ I reply.  _ Yeah, sounds great! See you then!  _

_ See you then xx _ she replies, and I set about cleaning the house and preparing a bit of lunch. Once that’s finished, I decide to tune up a few of my guitars, and then decide which one I wanna use today. I have exactly thirteen guitars scattered in various rooms in the house, each on their own little stands or shelves in their selected rooms. I may or may not have purchased three more for Jesy to choose from earlier this week all of which are currently propped against the living room sectional. Thankfully, the last guitar arrived in the post this morning. I was worried it wouldn’t get here in time, which would’ve been very problematic considering it’s the one I think she’ll choose. But, I wanted her to have options, so I bought two more that arrived on their guaranteed delivery date, which was two days ago. I decide to leave the guitars that will possibly be Jesy’s untuned so that I can teach her how to tune up, and then set about picking my own. 

I pop my favorite hybrid off its cradle on the living room wall before I decide that it’s just not right for the occasion. I quickly put it back in its place and run upstairs to grab the guitar I keep in my bedroom. It’s my favorite, though it’s proper old. It was mine second hand, and I’m constantly having to replace the appliances and things, but I just love it too much to let it go. 

I lay it on the couch opposite Jesy’s, and then grab my little accessories box, which is full of straps, picks, and most importantly, capos. There’s also a notebook full of songs I’ll never finish in the bottom of the box, and I do my best to keep them out of view. 

Jesy’s knock on the door startles me a bit, and I clumsily make my way to my feet before I go over to the door to greet her. 

I’ve been so busy fussing over the guitars this morning that I haven’t had much of a chance to think about what Jes and I are doing today, and what a big step it is. I just hope we’re moving forward, and not back. 

“Hey,” I say, opening the door and opening my arms. 

“Hi,” she says, stepping into them. She squeezes me tight, but for an appropriate amount of time, before she steps through the door behind me. I follow her in, and then lead her over to the couch, where the guitars are on display. 

“Pezza, when you said you’d give me one, I thought you meant an old, useless one you had on hand. Not…” She trails off, gesturing to the gleaming trio of brand-new instruments propped up on the couch. 

“I couldn’t help myself,” I say with a nervous grin, hoping I haven't overstepped and completely blown it. 

“Perrie,” she whines.

“Jesy,” I whine in return. “Listen, I wanted to, okay? I want you to be excited about this! I thought a new guitar might do the trick. So, you just pick ‘em up, give ‘em a little strum, and see which one calls to you. And while you do that, I’m gonna get lunch all set up.”

“Wait, you made-  _ Perrie _ ,” she whines again. 

“Listen, I have a lot to make up for. This is just the beginning, alright? So get used to it.”

“Alright.” She says with a fond roll of the eyes. 

I head to the kitchen, making sure to stay mostly out of Jesy’s line of sight so she doesn’t feel like she’s being watched. 

But secretly? I’m watching her. 

I pretend to fuss with the soup and sandwiches as she runs a careful hand over the guitar to her left. It’s gorgeous, with a smooth, black body and silver accents. It’s the shoe-in, the one I bought that matches her aesthetic. It’s not the one I think she’ll choose, but it’s the one most people would think she’d be most likely to choose, if that makes sense. It’s the safest option.

The next one she picks up is one that I’m selfishly hoping she doesn’t choose, cause it would look lovely on the lowest rung in my studio. It’s a deep red, shiny and reflective. It’s got creme accents, which give it an older feel, and it’s sort of sexy- well, as sexy as a guitar can be, I suppose. It looks very masculine, but it’s only a 40, so it’s a little more likely to be played by smaller, more feminine hands. 

_ My _ smaller, more feminie hands hopefully. But, if Jesy wants it, she’ll have it. No regrets.

She spends more time with guitar number two than she does with number one, but eventually moves onto guitar number three. 

Just after she picks up the third one, she darts her head up, and I duck out of sight as quickly as possible. 

I run as quietly as I can across the kitchen, and quickly open the fridge door. 

Loudly.

Then I wait three long, slow seconds before I close it as softly as possible and scurry back to my spot near the salad, where I’m watching over Jesy.

She’s sat on the couch with the guitar in her lap, running gentle hands over it, as if to examine its construction. 

It’s purple, which at first may seem like an odd choice for Jes because she’s often so dark and deep in her color choices, but she’s always had an eye for anything different. And this bright baby is most definitely different. 

It’s a reject from a custom shop in my hometown, and I had to do a little bit of begging to get them to ship it out, as they usually insist on people picking up the guitars in person. 

It cost me two pit tickets to our matinee show in Newcastle, as well as $600, but it’s so worth it. Well, judging by the way Jes is looking at it. 

It’s a 38, making it the smallest of the three models, and definitely the finest in construction. It’s strictly acoustic whilst the other two are hybrids, but I’m partial to a good ol’ acoustic. Especially for at-home playing.

The body is a pale, pastel purple, too light to even be called lavender. The metalwork is bright and shiny silver, and the accents are cream with splashes of baby blue. The brand name is written across the top in girly pink script, loopy and outlined in black, the perfect contrast of soft and serious. 

Jes spends time turning the pegs and dragging her fingers across the muted strings, and I know she’s chosen it as hers, even if she doesn’t. 

She’s admiring the cutout when I choose to bang loudly back into the living room so that she’s well aware of my presence. 

She greets me with a soft smile before glancing back down at the guitar she’s holding carefully in her hands. 

“Is that the one?” I ask, secretly pleased with myself for knowing which one she’d choose. 

“Yeah, I think so,” she says, looking up at me when she speaks and then back down at it. “I’ve never seen one that looks quite like this before. It’s pretty.”

“It’s custom,” I say, before I realize how that sounds.

“Perrie, you shouldn’t ha-” Jesy starts, wide eyed. 

“Oh, no, I didn’t order it,” I assure her. 

She looks at me confusedly.

“I called the shop I used to visit all the time in shields, the one that made our commemorative Glory Days guitars?” I say. “Dave had an order cancel after he was already nearly done with the construction, and when he described the guitar, I knew it would be perfect. Didn’t know how you’d feel about purple though, so I wanted to cover my bases,” I say, gesturing to the other two guitars.

“You’re lyin’,” she says, looking at me suspiciously.

I’m worried until I catch the smile pulling at the corner of her lips. 

“You bought that red one for your studio, I know it. It matches perfectly,” she tells me with a sly grin.

I laugh, always amused at how Jesy seems to know me better than even  _ I _ know me.

“That’s not why I bought it!” I squeal. “But, now that you mention it, it would look nice,” I say, making it clear that the idea did not  _ just _ occur to me. 

“Oh, sure, of course,” she says, rolling her eyes. 

“It’s more economical than paying the shipping to send it back,” I insist, and she laughs. 

“Oh yes, because you’re known for being, above all else,  _ economical _ . Little Miss “I don’t look at the price tag when I buy things.”

“Shut up,” I say with a laugh, happy when she giggles too. “Now, would you like some lunch?”

“I suppose,” she says, tone annoyed but face pleased. 

“C’mon, then,” I say, motioning her toward the kitchen. 

Lunch passes quickly, conversation flowing easily. I somehow manage to fall more in love with Jes with every word she speaks, but I keep those feelings to myself. It’s not fair for me to dump those on her, not now. Not after what I did. 

Just as we finish eating, Jesy gets a call. 

“D’you mind?” She asks me, and I shake my head. 

“‘Course not. I’ll go wait for you in the living room,” I say, placing our plates in the sink along the way. 

_ Thanks _ , she mouths, swiping to answer the call. “Hey, Jade.”

I briefly wonder which Jade. I say briefly, because the  _ yahreet _ that comes through the phone makes it clear pretty quickly. 

I quickly make my way to the sofa, trying to fight the impulse to eavesdrop.

If I listen carefully, I can hear her speaking. 

“Yeah, I’m with her now. No, we’re just- she’s teaching me to play guitar, is all. We’re not- I’m not, okay? She really is just teaching me to play guitar. Do you want me to go get her so she can confirm it, mother? Well, you’re acting like you are. I’m an adult, I can- yes, I know. But I can’t just turn that off, you know? It’s not my fault I still love her.”

_ She still loves me? She still loves me! _

I mean, I suppose I knew this in the back of my mind- or I assumed it, at the very least- but to hear Jesy say it? I feel like I’m flyin’. 

And then she says what she says next, and I feel like I’ve been plucked from the sky and thrown into the sea with cement shoes. 

“Yes, I’m still going out with him on Saturday. I told you I would, so I am. You better not bail on me, though! I’ll never forgive you. Yeah, yeah. See you then, Jadey. Love you.”

I quickly pick up a guitar, trying to pretend like I  _ haven’t  _ been closely monitoring every word she said. 

She smiles at me when she comes in, shooting me that gooey, lovesick sort of grin, and I can’t help but give her one in return. 

“So,” I say, trying to shake myself out of it. “Are you ready to learn to play the guitar?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” she tells me. “I have to warn you, this could go very badly. I get frustrated with this sort of thing very easily.”

“No worries, babe. I’ll keep you grounded,” I say with a laugh. 

She smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Alright then,” I say with a quick nod of my head, “let’s get started.”

We spend the next twenty or so minutes going over the most basic things, like how to tune the guitar and how to hold it correctly. 

Jes looks like she’s about to fall asleep on me, so I decide to skip straight into our first chord. We’ll go over strum patterns later.

“Alright, so the first chord we’re gonna learn is a G,” I say, forming the chord with my fingers on my own guitar, before strumming. “G is my favorite, and also probably the easiest and most essential chord to play. In my opinion, anyway. But I am biased, because it is my favorite. Have I mentioned it’s my favorite?” 

She laughs, taking a careful look at my fingers before trying to replicate it on her own guitar. “Is this right?” 

“Almost,” I tell her, moving her second finger to the second string instead of the third one. “Now you’ve got it.”

She strums, and I can immediately see her dissatisfaction with the sound she’s produced. The pout on her face is proper cute, and I swear I feel my heart skip in my chest. 

“Why does it sound so bad?” she whines, looking absolutely puzzled.

“You’re muting the strings a bit,” I tell her. “You’re fingers have got to sit upright on them a little more. It’ll sound crisper if you tilt your hand like this,” I say, moving my elbow up a bit. 

She tries to mimic it, but can’t get the angle quite right. 

She strums again, and it’s somehow worse. 

“Guitar is too hard,” she tells me, letting her fingers go completely lax. “And it hurts! Can you teach me to play something easier? The kazoo, maybe?”

“I can’t play the kazoo,” I remind her, and she laughs. 

“Oh, yeah,” she says with that nose-scrunched smile that I can’t get enough of. “Well. The harmonica, maybe?”

“Jes! You’ve only been at this for like 25 minutes! It takes longer to learn to play than that, Love,” I say, the endearment slipping out so quickly I hardly notice.

She smiles at me, bright and sunny and perfect, before it slips. She recovers quickly, though, pasting on a smile that an onlooker would think was unquestionably real. 

I want to comment on it, but I can’t help but think that maybe I’ve lost my right to. 

“Okay, so,” I say, clearing my throat to try and diffuse the obvious tension in the room. “Back to G.”

Jesy groans, but obliges. 

Once she’s sort of got G down, we move on to Em, which she much prefers. 

“Why didn’t you teach me this one first? It’s way easier!” She says, strumming happily.

“I taught you G first so that you’d feel like Em is easy,” I say, waggling my eyebrows. “It’s a trick of the mind.”

“Sure,” Jesy says with a disbelieving smile. 

“Now, let’s try G again before we move on to D. Playing D will make you realize how much nicer G is to play by comparison,” I say. 

“Wait, so D is worse than G? How can anything be worse than G?” She gripes, and I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, babe.”

She finds G again, and we focus on how hard she’s pressing this time, and it does sound a  _ little  _ bit better. After G, we move on to D, and it’s… less than fun. It’s dreadful, really. 

“Perrie, how am I supposed to make my fingers  _ do _ that? It’s impossible!”

I can’t help but laugh. “You’ve got very talented fingers Jes, I would know. You’ll figure it out,” I say, and then immediately realize  _ exactly _ what I’ve said.  _ Stupid, stupid!  _

Jes realizes too. 

We stare at each other awkwardly for a moment before I drag my hands across my face with a groan. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she says just as quickly, clearly eager to get away from my statement. 

“So, you’re having trouble with the D. I can help. Wh-” I start, before I’m interrupted by Jesy’s loud laugh. 

“Oh, what have I said now?” I ask with a whine.

“ _ You’re having trouble with the D, I can help _ ? Perrie, come on.” She says. 

“I didn’t even mean it like that!” I squeal, but I laugh too. “Gosh, is this destined to be awkward for the rest of forever?”

“I hope not,” Jesy says seriously. “I quite miss my best friend.”

“I miss you too,” I say, sounding desperate and but not caring. 

“I imagine as we put it behind us that maybe things will be less awkward. It just takes time, I suppose,” she says. 

I don’t want to put it behind us. I want to go back to how we were before I messed everything up, but I’ve already been awkward enough for the day. So, I just say “Yeah, I imagine.”

It’s quiet for a couple of seconds, me looking at Jesy and her avoiding my gaze. 

“Okay, let’s go back to the D chord in a minute,” I say, taking the guitar from her, needing to feel it. She hands it over easily, just observing me as I strum out a few chords. 

“How do you do it without looking at your fingers?” She asks, looking genuinely baffled. 

I find essentially everything she does and every way she is unbelievably cute, so it’s no shock that I get caught looking at her all lovey-dovey when she gets a little frustrated at my nearly effortless playing. 

“Lots of practice,” I say, still staring at her. “Do you want to sing while I play something? Give your fingers a break from the guitar for a while.”

“Will you sing the harmonies?” She asks, clearing her throat. 

“Of course,” I tell her. “What’ll you have?” 

“Hmm,” she says, pulling her lips to the side as she thinks. “Bit of Ed, maybe?”

“Sure,” I say, strumming a couple chords. “Which album?” 

“You choose. And then I’ll shuffle the album to pick the song,” she says, waving her phone in the air. 

“How about multiply?” I ask, knowing it’s her favorite. 

“Perfect. I’ll shuffle it on my phone, aaaaand… uh, One. One’s come up. Do you know that one?”

“Yeah, course,” I say. At this moment, I wonder if she’s trying to rip my heart out of my chest. “That’s the one you wanna do?”

She sits quietly for a moment, looking a little stressed, but nods her head. “Yeah, I like that one,” she says, not looking at me. 

“Great. Let’s go, then,” I say, strumming out a C chord before popping my capo on the second fret and strumming again. I work the rest of the chords out quickly, looking at Jes when I’m done. She smiles and nods, letting me know she’s ready, so I get on with it. 

I play a short intro before nodding to Jes when she’s meant to come in. 

“Actually, will you do the first verse?” She says, looking a little nervous. “And I’ll do the harmony, and then the second verse.”

“No problem,” I say with the only smile I can muster. It’s quite small, but hopefully sufficient. 

I play the intro again before I start to sing. 

_ “Tell me that you turned down the man,  _

_ who asked for your hand,  _

_ cause you were waiting for me. _

_ And I know- you’re gonna be away awhile, _

_ but I’ve got no plans at all to leave.”  _

Jes joins me on the pre-chorus, surprising me a bit when she takes the top harmony. 

_ “And would you take away my hopes and dreams, _

_ And just stay with me?” _

We sing together, though I look down at the guitar the whole time. 

It hurts. 

But, we go on.

We make it through the chorus, Jesy singing mostly the high harmony, but choosing the low when she prefers it. 

“ _ Just promise me, you’ll never leave, again _ ?” she sings, before letting me take the last line on my own. She nods it off to me like she’s gathering her breath for her verse. And that very well could be the reason she begs off if I hadn’t caught the look in her eyes. 

_ “Take my hand and my _

_ Heart and soul I will, _

_ Only have these eyes for you _

_ And you know, everything changes but _

_ We'll be strangers if, we see this through,”  _ she sings, her breath hitching on the last line, but she powers through. 

_ “You could stay within these walls and bleed _

_ Or just sta-” _

Jesy cuts off sort of slowly, messing up the last run and briefly trying to recover, but failing this time. 

I look at her helplessly, playing three more strums before I reach my hands out to her. 

“Don’t,” Jesy says harshly, flinching away from me. “Don’t, please.”

“Okay,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Okay. I-uhm, do you want something to drink? I’ll get you something to drink,” I finish, laying the guitar on the floor and running off to the kitchen. 

When I come back to the living room, Jesy is hastily wiping her tears and gathering her things. 

“You’re leaving?” I say, sounding every bit as sad as I feel. 

“Uh- yeah? Yeah, I am,” she says, trying (and failing) to make her tears less noticeable. 

“Oh,” I say, wringing my hands. I want to say more, but I don’t know what to say. “Um.” 

“Thanks. For teaching me,” she says, giving me the sort of smile you give someone you’ve known 8 mintues, not 8 years. 

“Sure,” I say, returning the same smile. “Do you wanna meet up again? Next week?” 

“I’m not sure,” she says honestly, her internal conflict evident externally for a moment before her press mask slips into place. 

It cuts me deep when her press mask appears. The fact that she feels the need to hide from me…

“Okay,” I say, unable to mask how hurt I am by her distrust, even though I deserve it.

“I don’t know if I can do this yet, Perrie,” she says, reaching a hand toward me before she pulls it back. 

“I, um. I understand,” I say, trying my best to keep my voice even even though my throat is unbelievably tight. I rub a hand along the back of my neck, letting my fingers tug at the hair there, trying to use physical pain to distract from my much greater emotional anguish. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though? At the studio.”

“Yeah, of course,” she assures me, nodding her head. 

We look at one another awkwardly for a second before she starts toward the door. I follow her, opening the door for her once we arrive. 

“See you later,” she says, pulling me in for a quick, tight hug before she practically runs out the door. 

“Bye, Jes,” I say quietly, pretty sure I’m the only one who hears it. 

\---

I laze around my house for the rest of the day, unable to shake the funk I’ve been in since Jesy left. 

Bloody Ed Sheeran. I should’ve known better than that. Stupid. 

When we see each other on Friday, we’re cordial, but not remotely warm or even friendly. Jesy doesn’t seem to want to interact much, so I respect that. Leigh and Jade are good at filling the would-be awkward silences with friendly conversation, doing most of the talking for the day. 

Jesy leaves as soon as the session ends, cutting out with friendly hugs and cheek kisses for Leigh and Jade, and a much quicker, colder hug for me. 

“Bye, Jes,” I say as she leaves. I hope our relationship isn’t like this for long- me saying a reluctant goodbye and her not staying ‘round long enough to hear it. 

Jade leaves next, surprising me when she wraps me in a tight, sisterly hug before she moves onto Leigh. I must look really pathetic if  _ Jade _ is pitying me. 

Leigh lingers, continually finding things in her handbag to fiddle with until I announce that I’m going to leave. 

“Do you want to share a car?” Leigh asks.

“We live in opposite directions,” I remind her with a little smile. 

“Yeah, but that’s the best excuse I could come up with,” she says with a cringe. 

I give her the tiniest laugh. 

“Plus, I could use the drive. Andre’s supposed to cook dinner tonight, and he’s always running late. Actually, do you wanna come over? For dinner?”

“I don’t want to crash your date night, babe, but thanks for the offer. I will take you up on sharing a car, though. Do you want me to order it?” I ask.

“No, I’ve got it,” she insists, quickly ordering a two-stop ride on the app that we all use. 

Leigh grabs onto my hand as we walk out, pulling me into her to snuggle once we get into the car. I comply easily, always eager for soft physical affection, especially where my girls are concerned. 

We’re just a few minutes from my house when she breaks the easy silence that’s settled between us. 

“Are you okay, Pezzmania? You seem sad,” she says softly, the arm that’s not wrapped around me softly stroking my hair. 

“Not really,” I say, burying my face in her shoulder. “Jes came over on Thursday, and it-uh, it didn’t go how I had hoped it would.” 

“How were you hoping it would go?” She asks. 

“Better than it did,” is all I offer at first. “She’s- it’s like she’s afraid of me, Leigh. She doesn’t want to talk, really. Doesn’t want to touch me. And I get that I hurt her, and that it’s unfair of me to expect things to go back to being easy, but. I miss her, Leigh-Anne. I miss her so,  _ so _ much. And not just as my girlfriend, but as my best friend. I’m only just realizing that my life was relatively Jesy-centric even before we got together. I’ve had eight years of Jesy in my life nearly every day, almost all the time. And now… Leigh, it hurts me to even _ think _ about her, about what I gave up. I’m so  _ stupid _ . I got scared, and-”

“You’re not stupid, Pezza,” Leigh says, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. 

“Yes, I am! I love her, Leigh. I love her so much that not being with her physically hurts me. I get this awful pain in my gut, and I constantly feel unsettled. I-”

“Have you told her any of this?” She asks, still stroking my hair. 

“No. It wouldn’t be fair to her, after what I’ve done. But she has to know, you know? She has to know,” I insist, not sounding even close to sure of what I’m saying as it comes out of my mouth. 

Leigh sits quietly for a moment, looking out the window as we turn the corner into my neighborhood. 

“This really is quite the mess,” Leigh says, blowing out a soft breath that causes a bit of fog to stick to the window before it dissipates almost as quickly as it came. “As much as I wish I did, I don’t have some sort of magic advice to give you. But, I do know both you and Jesy better than I know just about anyone else, so I know this: You’re both still very in love, and you’re both still hurting a lot. A lot of the fault does lie with you Pez, you know that. But, the situation was also something that you were sort of forced into. Jesy was ready to come out, and you weren’t, and that’s okay. It’s just how you went about it that wasn’t. I don’t know if now’s the time, but you’ve got to talk with Jesy about this at some point. Get everything out in the open, just so you know exactly where you stand. And then, at some point, you’ve got to stop hating yourself so much. I can’t stand to see my bright and shiny babey all dark and gloomy,” she says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I feel the little bump in the pavement as we pull into my driveway, and I set about unbuckling my seatbelt as the car stops. 

“We’re gonna get through this, okay? Me and Jade will help. Little Mix Forever, right?” Leigh asks. I can’t help but notice the genuine concern in her eyes, the worriedness that emanates from her as she bites at her bottom lip.

“Together, forever, always,” I remind her, happy when the little crease between her eyebrows disappears. 

She pulls me back into her arms one last time as the driver opens my door. 

“I love you, Perrie.”

“Love you too, Leigh,” I say, and then get out of the car. 

I mope the rest of Friday, needing a day to do so, and then I obsessively clean my house for hours on Saturday. 

Once that’s all done, I fall asleep on the couch sometime around eight watching old Frasier reruns, and then drag myself to bed for good about ten. 

At half one, a harsh series of knocks jars me from my sleep. At first, I’m afraid, but I shake it off quickly. Whoever it is that’s knocking has to be on the neighborhood  _ and  _ sector-approved guest lists. There are maybe two dozen people who fit that critera, and of those two dozen, only six have full-access overnight passes. Each house only gets one “no questions asked” pass, after all. 

So, there’s really only one person it could be. 

As much as I expect her to be there, I’m still surprised when I throw open my door to find a distraught Jesy Nelson on the other side. 

“Pez-” she starts, before she shakes her head, grabbing for me. She presses lips to mine frantically and and pushes her way into my house.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please comment/leave kudos if you liked it!   
Oh, and be on the lookout for chapter 4:)   
xx  
sydd  
Tumblr @16sydd16


	4. when you comin' around?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesy always arrives with a bang...

_ As much as I expect her to be there, I’m still surprised when I throw open my door and find a distraught Jesy Nelson on the other side.  _

_ “Pez-” she starts, sealing her lips to mine and pushing her way into my house. _

I’m all too happy to let her, thrilled by her presence, though part of me is also terrified. Emotions are so tricky, and we’re playing with so many hot, heavy ones. 

“Jes,” I manage to get out as she works her way down my neck. “Jes, what-”

“One night, Perrie,” is all she says at first. “One night how it was when we were good. And then I can put this whole thing behind me, and get over it once and for all,” she finishes resolutely. 

I’m not a fan of that last bit, but I am definitely a fan of the bit where Jesy spends the night with me, so I do my best to keep my mouth shut, other than when I open it to bite Jesy’s bottom lip. 

Our kisses progress as they usually do, leading us to my favorite part of being with Jesy: The afterglow, when we’re pressed as close as we can be, skin on skin, no barriers up emotionally, physically, or otherwise. 

We get there rather quickly tonight, too desperate for one another’s touch to go anything but as fast as we can. We haven’t been together in a while, and, far as I know, neither of us has been with anyone else since. 

To my surprise and delight, Jes curls up in my arms once we’ve finished, letting her head rest in the crook of my neck. 

“God, I’ve missed you,” I say, unable to keep it in. 

She doesn’t say anything in reply, but I know the feeling is mutual when her arms tighten around me and she lets out a little sigh. 

She pulls away not five minutes later, sitting up with the sheet pulled around her. 

“Don’t go,” I beg, catching her hand in mine. 

“Perrie…” she trails off. 

“One night. You said one night. 40 minutes is hardly a whole night, Jes,” I say, as if arguing semantics will somehow change this whole situation. 

She looks at me like she’s ready to argue, but before she can say anything, her face screws up and she starts to cry. 

“Oh, Jesy,” I say, my own voice strained and sad. 

I gather her up in my arms before she has the chance to run away, wanting nothing more than to hold her close and take away the pain I’ve caused. 

She latches onto me, letting me pull her down so that she’s laying in my arms, wrapped up tightly. 

I press soft kisses to her forehead, murmuring quiet  _ sorry _ s until she tells me to shut up. 

I just murmur  _ I love you _ s after that, feeling her break in my arms, and feeling myself break knowing I’ve caused this. 

She lets me hold her while she cries, lets me rub my hands along her back, lets me squeeze my arms tight around her, lets me give her tender little cheek kisses until her tears stop. 

I’m both thrilled and terrified by the cessation of her tears. Thrilled because it kills me when she’s sad, and terrified because when she’s finished crying, she won’t need me anymore, and she’ll leave. 

I know it’s selfish, and not for the first time do I wonder if I’m really the best choice for Jesy. 

She stays in my arms, and I don’t dare move, even though my foot has fallen asleep. 

When I hear her even breathing, and the occasional tiny snore, I realize that my foot’s not the only thing. 

I probably should wake her up, but I can’t. Instead, I try to relax, still holding her tight in my arms, likely more for my benefit than for hers. 

Even worried as I am that I’ll wake up alone, I fall asleep quickly, relishing the feel of Jesy’s weight against me, of her warm skin pressed to mine, of her wavy red hair tickling against the arm I have tucked under her neck. 

I do wake up alone.

But, before I have the chance to cry, I hear pots and pans being banged around in the kitchen. 

“Making breakfast?” I ask, entering the room in an oversized t-shirt and some thick socks. 

Jesy’s dressed similarly, absolutely dwarfed by an old, tatty grey jumper, and currently sporting my slippers. 

She smiles up at me when I speak. “It’s just eggs and toast, don’t get too excited.”

“I would expect nothing more,” I tease, pleased when she smiles back at me. 

I want to go over to her, wrap my arms around her as she cooks the one thing she can, but I refrain, not knowing where we stand. 

“Jesy-”

“Pez-” we say at the same time, shooting each other tiny, closed mouth smiles as we do. 

“You first,” I offer when neither of us volunteers to speak. 

“We need to have a little talk, yeah?” she asks. “Over breakfast?”

“Sure,” I say. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Drinks, maybe? I have the kettle on, but if you’ve got juice…” she trails off. 

“I have orange juice. And grape, I think.”

“Perfect,” she says, shooting me a small, nervous smile. 

\---

The first few minutes of breakfast conversation consists of my comment on how the eggs taste good and then lots of fork scraping on plate noises.

“So,” Jesy says, pushing the remainder of her eggs around her plate as she speaks so she has something to focus on besides me. “Last night was…”

“Yeah,” I say dreamily, hoping this is going where I think it is. 

Jesy smiles at me tightly before she pushes her plate away completely, shifting all of her attention to me. 

“Perrie, I can’t handle another heartbreak. It’s too much stress for now. I want to trust you, but right now… I can’t, Pezza. I really can’t.” She says softly. 

“I understand,” I say, and I swear I can feel my heart cracking in half in my chest. “I, um. I get it.”

And I do, even if I don’t want to. I messed things up big time. I broke one of the most important promises I’ve ever made, and I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life. 

I’m near tears when I feel Jesy’s hand slide over my own, and I look up at her. 

“It’s not just you, Pez. I’m- I went on a date last night, and…”

“Didn’t go well?” 

She shoots me a wry smile. “If it had, do you think I’d have run straight from the theater into your bed?”

“No, probably not,” I say with a laugh. 

“Anyway, the date was helpful in one way. It made me realize that I’m definitely not ready for another relationship. I’m not sure I ever will be, at least not for the next little while. So, I was thinking… fuck, this is weirder than I thought it’d be. I’m sweating,” she says, fanning herself. 

“It’s alright, Jes,” I say, squeezing the hand that’s still touching mine. “It’s just me. You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I have a proposition for you,” she says seriously. 

“I’m listening…” I say, trying not to let on just how interested I am in whatever she’s proposing. I know I’m failing, but it’s the effort that counts, yeah?

“I want us to have sex.” She blurts, looking surprised as she says it. 

“Like… right now?” I ask, confused but not opposed. 

“No! No,” she says, laughing. “I, um. I can’t trust you with my heart again. But I can trust you with my body.”

I let loose an incredulous laugh, cutting Jesy off from whatever she was about to say next.

“Sorry, go on,” I say with a grin, still holding her hand. 

“I… well. I’m tired of us tiptoeing around each other. I know we talked about the fact that neither of us are really very good at casual, but… Pez, we were so serious,  _ so fast. _ Being the opposite of casual shot us in the foot last time. Everything got way out of hand. I don’t think we’re meant for more than casual,” she says, and I try not to physically recoil when she does. “We weren’t meant to be in love, I think. Just lovers. And I don’t know how you feel about all this, or if it’s even something you want, but,” she trails off, shrugging her shoulders. 

I know that this is the perfect time to tell her how I feel, lay it all out on the table like Leigh suggested, but… I can’t. As much as I’m hurting, and as much as I’m dying to tell her, I can’t do it. This is the easiest, the friendliest, the best things have been since my royal fuck-up on American television, and I need to keep it this way. Even if it means keeping my mouth shut about how I really feel. 

“So you want us to be like… friends with benefits?” I ask. 

“Yeah, I guess. I mean- yeah. I, um. That’s what I’d like.”

“Okay,” I acquiesce. 

“Okay?” She asks, like she’s confused as to why I’ve said yes. 

“Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. Works for me,” I say, shooting her a small grin. 

She beams back at me, and I’d imagine that anyone looking at the two of us right now would think we’re in love. 

But, if Jes says we’re not, then I guess we’re not.  _ Not in love, but lovers. _

I know I’m going to end up hurt in the long run, but for now, I’ll take what I can get. 

“Okay,” she says, looking equal parts nervous and relieved. “Okay.”

“Okay,” I parrot once again. “I’m- does that mean I can touch you? Like, do you wanna go snuggle on the couch?”

“Yea- I mean, I don’t- uhh, isn’t that sort of a coupley thing to do?” she bumbles, worrying her lip.

“Or a friends with benefitsy thing,” I suggest nonchalantly, hoping this different sort-of relationship with Jes will be girlfriends without the title. 

I think I can live with that. 

“Okay,” she agrees, standing up from her seat at the table. She drops my hand to grab her plate and take it to the sink, and I follow, doing the same with mine. 

I offer her my hand once I’ve washed the dishes and she’s dried. 

I try to ignore how domestic the whole thing is, how we’re already falling back into routine. 

She knows where the plates go, and she stacks them just how I like before taking my proferred hand. 

\---

Though I want much more for our relationship than what we’ve currently agreed upon, the next few hours are nothing short of bliss. 

We don’t do anything special, just curl up on the couch and watch some mindless TV. We’re constantly touching though, and I can’t get enough. I knew that I missed the closeness we’d built over the years, but I don’t think I had allowed myself to realize how much I ached for the easy physical affection we used to share until I felt Jesy’s touch in that way once again. 

I never want her to leave, never want to be without her ever  _ ever _ again. It’s ridiculous (and probably unhealthy) how I can’t feel like- well, like  _ me  _ without her. 

She mentions running errands after lunch, and I volunteer to run them with her, even though that’s not a very “friends with benefits”-y thing to do. 

I expect her to tell me as much, but all she does is nod her head and tell me she’d like that.

I’m absolutely buzzin’ everywhere we go, my excitement palpable. Just being around Jesy has breathed some life back into me, and all of a sudden, I feel like myself again. 

She lets me hold her hand everywhere we go, even though we both know we’re likely to be papped. 

It’s stupid, but now that we’ve started touching again, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to stop. 

Jesy offers to have the driver run me home once we finish, and I can’t help but ask her to come back with me before I have time to wonder whether it’s too much, too fast. 

“Pezza- I wanna say yes,” she says, still clutching my hand tight in hers, “but we shouldn’t. Too much too fast killed us the last time, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “But more was at stake last time, right? This is just friends with benefits,” I remind her, though I don’t really believe it. 

She can’t deny it, though. To deny it would be to admit there’s something more going on, and I know she won’t do that. 

“You’re right,” she says, leaning into me. 

I’m elated, but I try not to show it. 

“I need to run by mine and grab my studio kit for tomorrow, though. Jade will wring my neck if I show up without it again.”

“Fair enough,” I say with a little laugh.

\---

After we pick up Jesy’s studio kit, we order a bit of deliveroo. 

We eat dinner on the couch as we watch some murder show that Jesy is really into and I’m really not. 

“It’s the husband,” she says about three minutes into the episode. “Definitely the husband.”

She’s right. 

“Had you seen this one before?” I ask, snuggling her in my arms as the end credits play, dinner done. “You guessed it pretty early.”

“No,” she says, letting her head fall back against my shoulder. “Just had a hunch.”

“D’ya want to watch another?” I ask as the next episode starts. 

“D’you mind?” She asks, turning her head to look at me. 

“No,” I say, our noses just a couple inches apart. “I don’t mind.”

I let my eyes linger on her lips before I lift them up again to meet hers. 

I half expect her to back away, though for what reason, I’m not sure. We  _ are _ allowed to do this now, after all. 

I press my lips to hers before I can overthink it.

She reciprocates easily, quickly threading a hand through my hair. 

I hook a hand around her thigh and one around her waist, pulling her on top of me. 

She groans, wrapping one leg around my waist and keeping the other on the ground.

I’m not having that, though. I want her closer, as close as she can be to me. 

I pull harshly at her other leg until she wraps it around me. 

She rolls her hips against me in retaliation, and I moan loudly. Like,  _ embarrassingly _ loudly.

She breaks our kiss with a little laugh. I might have enough shame to blush if I could think about anything besides how badly I want her to do it again. 

“D’you like that?” she asks, teasing me as she rolls them a second time.

“God,  _ yes _ ,” I say throatily. 

“Good to know,” she says goofily, shooting me a cheeky wink. 

\---

We show up at the studio early, hoping to avoid Jade and Leigh’s questions about why we’ve shown up together. Our strategy may have worked if there wasn’t a writer’s meeting happening beforehand, which we barged in on. 

Together. 

Hand in Hand.

Oof. 

“Fuck me,” Jesy mutters under her breath. 

“Sorry,” I say quickly, backing out of the doorway. “We’ll come back when you’re do-”

“We’re done,” Jade says cooly, turning to the writers. “See yous later.”

The two writers they were working with today, both men I’ve never met before, sense the change in the atmosphere and quickly exit the room with murmured  _ Later _ s.

“Jade, listen-” Jesy starts as soon as the door closes. 

Jade has no interest in listening, though. 

“Jes, what the fuck?”

“Jade-” I start. 

“Piss off, Perrie. I don’t wanna fookin’ hear it.”

“Jade, come on-” Leigh tries, placing a gentle hand on Jade’s arm, but Jade shakes her off as well.

“No! No, Leigh. I don’t, I can’t- I don’t have to be okay with this! I had to help Jesy pick up the pieces after Perrie fucked everything up. I can’t see her like that again.  _ I can’t _ . And I also can’t deal with the stress of everything going south again! Our careers are on the line here, in case that’s slipped anyone’s mind. We are a four piece, though you two seem to have forgotten that!” She yells, turning back to Jesy and I. “Seriously, Jes? You’re already back together? And Pez- who the fuck do you think you are?”

“We’re not back together!” Jesy shouts, flailing her arms out. 

I grasp her hand in mine again on instinct as she flounders, unintentionally adding fuel to Jade’s flame. 

“What the fuck is going on, then!?” 

“We’re friends with benefits!” Jesy yells back, cringing after she does. 

“Oh, well that’s just bloody fantastic,” Jade shouts incredulously, walking away from us for a moment. Leigh tries to go with her, but Jade shakes her off. “I just… need a minute, Leigh,” she says, much softer. 

Jes lets go of my hand, following Jade out of the room, but a few steps behind. 

I turn to look at Leigh, who’s near tears. 

“Pez, this- this is all a big mess. Do you realize that? You  _ do _ realize… actually, I don’t think you realize. Perrie, you can’t make Jesy like that again. Do you understand? It got bad. It got, um. It got almost like it was… before. When things were  _ really _ bad. It’s not fair to any of us, and especially not to Jes, if you use her and lose her again. She’s been through too much- hell, we’ve all been through too much- to let you mess it up again.” She says, rubbing her temples. Though Leigh is justified in what she’s said, I still feel a bit like crying, and I know Leigh can tell. 

“I suppose we could deal with casual sex, though, if that’s all this is. Is that all it is?” Leigh inquires softly, looking proper skeptical. 

“No,” I say, not wanting to lie. “I mean, friends with benefits is what we’ve agreed on. Jesy said we’re not meant to be in love, just to be lovers, and I… I didn’t want to argue. So, officially, friends with benefits is what we are.”

“But you feel more,” Leigh says. “I know you feel more, Pez. And I know she does too. You didn’t wanna tell her, though. Why?

“I got scared,” I tell Leigh honestly. “Jesy showed up at mine after her date and I was so sleepy and all of a sudden she was kissing me and touching me and-”

“Okay, I think I get the idea,” Leigh says, rubbing at her temples. “Fuck. This… Perrie, you have to be so careful this time, okay? Promise me. And you have to tell Jes how you really feel. We’ve always worked because we don’t have secrets in the group. No more secrets, okay?”

“Okay, Leigh. Alright. I promise. No more secrets.” I say, feeling my stomach tie itself in knots. My intestines feel like a friendship bracelet at this point. 

“And you’re gonna tell Jes how you really feel?” She asks, looking me dead in the eye.

“Yeah, sure. Soon,” I say, wringing my hands. 

“Tonight, Perrie.” She says, serious as I’ve ever seen her. 

“Give me until our next session, okay? Just until Wednesday. I promise I’ll tell her before then,” I plead. “Please, Leigh.”

“Yeah, okay,” she says, shaking her head. “Let’s… let’s just sing now, yeah?”

“Sure, yeah,” I say, wondeering how many times we’ve collectively uttered the words  _ yeah _ and  _ fuck _ in the last few minutes.

Jade and Jes rejoin us 15 or so minutes later. Jade looks like she wants to beat the shit outta me, but Jesy makes sure to stand between us for the rest of the day so she never gets the chance. 

The session isn’t as tense as you might imagine. We’re used to putting things on the backburner in order to go into work mode, and today is no different.

Jade doesn’t acknowledge me other than to glare. I might be hurt if I didn’t deserve it. 

Jesy and I don’t touch during the session, which isn’t ideal, but it keeps any further comments about our relationship at bay, so that’s how it has to be. 

Jesy and Jade are both on fire writing-wise today. I add things about the melodies here and there, and Leigh comments on the words, but Jes and Jade definitely do the heavy lifting. 

There’s only three of us in the writing room at any given time, with the other in the booth to record their bits of a couple songs we’re already looking at for the next album. We always cut a couple demos before we really start writing, just to get a feel for the direction of the album and all that. 

Once we finish, Jesy and Jade are back on decent terms. They’re both incapable of staying mad at one another, really. Jade’s incapable of staying mad at anyone but me, it seems, and thankfully, the overall mood is much less hostile. 

Leigh still seems a bit nervous as we pack up to go, and I can’t help but feel bad about it. 

“Do you maybe wanna get lunch? Before our next session?” I ask her. “My treat.”

“Sure, Pezza,” Leigh says, always willing to accept a proffered olive branch. “You’ll tell Jes?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell her,” I say, shooting Leigh my best attempt at a smile. 

“Maybe things will be alright,” she suggests, wrapping me in a hug. 

“Maybe,” I say quietly. If the best Leigh, the incurable optimist of the group, can give me is “maybe” and “alright,” I’m not very hopeful. 

Jade leaves first, hugging Jes, hugging and kissing Leigh, and sort of… glancing at me. It’s not necessarily a glare, but it’s pretty close. 

“Goodbye, Jadey,” I tease as she walks out, rolling my eyes. 

“Piss off,” Jade shouts over her shoulder, ducking through the doorway. 

Leigh bids us goodbye next, giving us each a quick squeeze and a kiss on the cheek before she runs out after Jade, ever the fixer. 

“Well, that went well,” I say sarcastically, wrapping my arms around Jesy. 

She snorts, pulling me in close and pecking a quick kiss to my lips. 

I lean my forehead on hers, and she doesn’t pull away. 

I decide then to give myself today, to let us have this little vacation from reality before I confess my love and deal with Jes’s probable rejection tomorrow. 

I offer to cook for us tonight, and Jesy accepts. I’m hoping this means she’ll stay the night at mine again, even though this will technically be three nights in a row, and that seems a liiiiittle long for even the friendliest of friends with benefits. 

She does stay, though. 

I’m eager to pack as much as I can into tonight, because the fate of tomorrow is so uncertain. Usually Jes takes the dominant role, but I’m in control tonight- I want her to remember why she needs me, even if it’s just sexually.

I’m extra soft after, making sure to cradle her close and stroke her hair once we finish- I want her to remember why she likes falling asleep in my arms too. 

She goes quite still, and I think it’s cause she’s fallen asleep, but then she clears her throat. 

“Y’alright?” I ask, squeezing the hand I’ve got on her hip. 

“I’m not sure,” she says, blowing out a breath, and I can already tell that this is the start of the conversation I’m dreading. 

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” I plead. “Let’s just have tonight.”

“Alright, Pezza. Tomorrow,” Jesy agrees. 

“I love you,” I say quietly, both afraid she’ll hear me and that she won’t. I need her to know, but I’m terrified to tell her. 

She says nothing, just grabs the hand resting on her hip and brings it up to her lips, pressing a long, firm kiss to my palm, letting her face rest against my hand. 

“Goodnight, Jes,” I whisper, pressing a little kiss to the space behind her ear. 

“Goodnight, Perriewinkle.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: FINALLY! am I right? 
> 
> I know this chapter took me like 7 billion years to get out, and that you guys have been waiting forever, but I hope it was worth the wait!! 
> 
> I really want to know what you guys think! How do you feel? Do you like how the story is progressing? Are you guys still into NEM, or are you over it?
> 
> ngl, I've had my shittiest week in a little while, and I'd love to talk fanfic with you guys. Or just LM in general, yk? So yes, I am begging yous to comment lol😝 I mean, I usually beg y'all to comment, so I guess this is just more of the same😉
> 
> I don't think it's any secret that Only You/NEM is my favorite of my stories, and the one I spend the most time on, so when you guys comment on it, I get particularly excited😊 
> 
> I don't want this A/N to go on forever, so I'm gonna cut it here. 
> 
> I hope you all have a lovely day, and that those of you in the US enjoy the long weekend! 
> 
> Tumblr @16sydd16 (I'm active-ish again, so come say hey!💛)
> 
> xx
> 
> sydd  
💖


	5. I don't wanna fight, not tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heartbreaking heart to heart.

I wake up in my bed with a face full of red hair a little after 7. Unlike most days, I don’t immediately try to go back to sleep. I don’t think I could if I wanted to, anyway. I know things are going to change between me and Jes today, one way or the other, and the feeling in my gut is telling me that they won’t change in the way I’d like them to. 

I move Jesy’s hair out of my way before re-wrapping her in my arms nice and tight and burying my face against her neck. I can almost convince myself that if I hold her hard enough, she won’t leave. 

I press kisses to the back of her neck as she sleeps. She sighs as I do, and I swear, I’m becoming more desperate for her to stay by the minute. 

I worry I’ve woken her when she starts to stir, but she just turns over, wrapping her arms around me and snuggling her face into the hollow between my neck and my shoulder.

The fact that this could be the last time we hold each other like this nearly sends me to tears, but I manage to keep them at bay for the moment, wanting to enjoy it, especially if this is the last time I’ll get to have Jesy like this. 

She whufs out a heavy breath in my ear, and I sigh aloud. 

_ God, please don’t let this be the last time. _

I watch Jesy, both unable and unwanting to do anything else. She has one arm half-under each of us and the other wrapped over top of me, her hand clutching at my t-shirt. We both got half-dressed after our little shower in the middle of the night, in big shirts. I’m selfishly hoping that the one I let Jesy borrow will be a little stained by her recently re-dyed hair, that the faint red hue along the white collar will be around to haunt me after she’s gone. 

_ She might not be gone _ , a voice in my head whispers quietly, afraid to say it louder, knowing it’ll immediately be drowned out by the weightier, surer voices. 

I let my hands wander as we lay, let them trace along her thighs, her bum, her back, her neck. I let one find her more delicate features, like her pointed little nose and her sharp cheekbones. 

I’m resting a hand against her cheek, letting my thumb stroke the soft skin near her ear when her eyes flutter open. 

She smiles at me as soon as she sees me, big and bright, before her eyes can even properly focus. It’s at this point that I become absolutely sure I’ll never get over her, that I’ll never love anyone more than I love her right now. 

I think maybe the fact that I can’t have her makes the love more intense. I feel quite sick with love, actually, and I can’t help but wonder if loving someone you desperately want and just as desperately cannot have is the purest form of heartbreak. 

“Hi,” she says softly, burrowing her head into me until her chin is pressed to my collarbone. I move the hand that was grazing along her cheek up to her hair, letting my fingers run over top of it. 

“Good morning, Love,” I say softly, unable to keep my tears at bay any longer. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“Mmm,” she hums. I feel the vibration of her lips against my skin, and I try to commit the feeling to memory. 

I feel her lips on my collarbone, at the base of my neck, under my ear. They travel upwards until she’s as high as she can reach, unable to move because she’s tucked safely in my arms. 

She’s warm and fuzzy, just how she always is in the mornings. I love how soft and sweet and ooey-gooey she can be before we have to start our day, and she has to become a badass business woman. 

Today, it takes a surprisingly short amount of time for her to go from ooey-gooey to tense. 

“Pez, are you crying?” she asks, and that’s all it takes for the floodgates to really open. 

“Please don’t leave,” I beg pitifully, keeping my arms tight around her. “Please, Jes. Please don’t leave me.”

She doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything. I want more than anything for Jesy to promise me that she won’t leave, but we both know that she can’t- that she won’t. Jesy doesn’t make promises she can’t keep.

I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting the promise I couldn’t keep. 

I feel Jesy’s position shift a little, feel her arms come up so that she’s holding me now. Still, I don’t relinquish my hold on her, wanting to keep us as close as I can for as long as I can. 

She presses kisses to my temple, runs her hands along my arms, squeezes me tight. I try to take it all in, wanting to spend the rest of my life in her embrace but knowing I’ll probably only get a few more minutes. I try to commit the way her arms feel wrapped around me to memory, but I’m not sure I succeed.

Jesy hums to me and my tears slow, then stop. 

I swear they nearly start again once she moves to get up, but the look that she gives me keeps them at bay. 

“Jes…” I start. “I, um. We- I need to talk to you.”

“I know, baba,” she says gently. “But it can wait until after breakfast, yeah?”

We’re just prolonging the inevitable, and we know it. Still, I answer in the affirmative.

“Yeah. Can we make pancakes?” I ask. “I want pancakes.”

“If my baby wants pancakes, then she’ll have pancakes,” Jesy says with a grin, though she’s unable to completely cover up her evident, underlying sadness. “You might have to help me make them, though. I always leave them on the griddle a bit too long.”

“I can do that,” I say, giving her the teeniest, tiniest smile. 

“Alright, then.”

I make a quick run to the bathroom before I meet Jesy in the kitchen. She’s at the stove, putting the kettle on, and the domesticity of it all is too much for me, and I start to cry again. 

I only let a couple tears sneak out, though, wiping them away before Jesy has the chance to notice them. 

I’m struck with the urge to wrap my arms around her as she putters about the stove, which brings on a little deja vu moment from a couple days ago. 

I think for a second about how I was just as nervous for our fate then, but a little more optimistic. I didn’t get to hold Jesy that time, though. So this time? This time, I make sure I do.

I sneak up behind her, though I’m not sure how sneaky I really am, and I let my arms wrap around her waist. 

She leans back into me eagerly, resting against me for a moment until she cranes her head back for a kiss. I oblige eagerly, kissing her slowly before she pulls away, her cheeks sporting a lovely flush.

“So, pancakes?” she says, turning to face me completely, tucking a bit of hair behind my ear. 

“Pancakes,” I agree, kissing her soundly on the forehead. 

She giggles, and I swear, no moment will ever be more perfect than this one. 

We quickly gather the ingredients, deciding that these particular pancakes will need chocolate chips to be complete. 

Once it’s all laid out in front of us, I take my place behind Jes again. I’m a little more than an inch taller than her in my slippers, and I’m taking full advantage. 

She relaxes against me as I loop my arms around her waist. 

My tummy grumbles and she laughs. I press a kiss to the side of her head, but make no move to do anything about my hungry tummy. 

“Should we get started on the pancakes?” She asks, though she seems to want to leave her place against me about as much as I want her to leave it. 

“How about you make ‘em?” I suggest, closing my eyes and leaning against her.

She snorts. “I’ve only ever made the kind where you just add water,” she admits, and even though my eyes are shut and her back is to me, I know she’s crinkling her nose. 

I’m hopeless. I know too much about her to not be totally in love with her. 

“How about I tell you what to put in, and you put it in. Does that work?” I ask. 

“Will you still hold me?” She asks quietly. 

“There’s nothing I wanna do more,” I admit a little too seriously. 

Jesy turns in my arms then, looking just as scared as I feel.

She grabs my chin in her hand before she presses a kiss to my lips, long and slow. She lets me deepen it, but we both pull back after a little, knowing we shouldn’t let it get too heated.

Once she detaches her lips from mine, she lays her head on me, resting her ear just over the spot where my heart hides in my chest. 

She stays like that until my tummy grumbles again, giving it a little pat before looking up at me with a scrunched-nosed smile. “Okay, I think it really is pancake time.”

We make the pancakes leisurely, neither of us in a rush to finish breakfast and have our talk. Jes makes little humming noises as she moves around the kitchen. I hang onto her everywhere she goes, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Seems quite the opposite, really, with the way she’s leaned up on me, with the little kisses she presses to my cheek.

Eventually, we finish the batter and get a few cakes on the griddle. 

“Should we flip them?” Jesy asks after a few seconds. 

“Not yet,” I caution, pressing my lips to the side of her head again.    
“Now?” She asks a few seconds later. 

“Not quite,” I say, chuckling as I give her another kiss. 

“How do you know when it's ready?” She asks, almost seeming a little frustrated. 

“You’ve gotta wait until you see bubbles. On the top of the pancake. When it’s ready to flip, there’ll be lots of little bubbles,” I tell her. 

“Okay,” she says, leaning fully into my embrace. “Bubbles.”

We say nothing else while we wait for the bubbles to appear, just enjoying these last few moments of closeness we’re allowed before everything surely blows up.

Jesy flips the pancakes after asking a quiet “now?” and I hum in agreement. 

She makes pancake after pancake, always asking for my approval before she flips them or removes them from the griddle. 

Eventually, we’ve gone through all the batter. 

We separate for a moment to grab the drinks, the toppings, and our plates and forks. 

Once we’ve laid everything along the table, we wordlessly come together again. I pull Jes down on my lap once I’m in my seat, and we eat like that. It’s always easy to be sickly lovey dovey with Jes, even logistically, cause she’s left-handed. We can both hold each other and eat at the same time. We fit together in so many ways- 

I have to stop thinking about it before I start crying into my pancakes. 

“What have you put on yours?” I ask, needing to think of something,  _ anything _ else.

“Strawberries and jam and whipped cream,” she says. “Do you want a bite, baba?”

_ Not really, _ I think.  _ But I do want you to keep calling me baba. For the rest of forever, preferably. _

“Sure,” I say. 

She readies a bite on her fork, making sure to get a strawberry and some jam and a bit of whipped cream loaded on. 

She spoons it into my mouth carefully, laughing a little. 

I swallow the nearly sickly-sweet bite rather quickly. “What are you laughin’ at?”

“You have…” She starts, before leaning in to kiss me. I feel her lick along my top lip before she gives me a proper kiss. 

“You had whipped cream on your lip,” she says, pulling back just slightly. 

“Oh. Do I have more?” I ask, playfully puckering my lips and leaning in. 

She laughs, but gives me a quick kiss anyway. 

“I think I got it all that time, baby.”

“Shame,” I muse, earning a laugh. 

We speak here and there as we eat, but mostly we just enjoy one another’s presence. 

All too soon, we reach the moment I’ve been dreading since our little agreement started a few days ago. 

“Jes-”

“I know, Pez. I know. Can we do it on the couch, at least? I feel like I’m squishing you,” she says. 

“Sure,” I say. “But for the record, I like being squished.”

She gives a tiny laugh, her brain having clearly already moved on to the task at hand. 

We settle on the couch, sitting so we can look at each other, and she already feels too far away. 

I sit there sort of uselessly at first, wanting to touch her but not knowing if I’d be allowed. 

We’re already going our separate ways, and the thought of that is… unthinkable. 

When we cannot prolong the inevitable any longer, I open my mouth to speak. 

“I love you,” is the first thing that spills out. 

Jesy looks up at me in shock, as if she didn’t know- or didn’t expect it, at the very least. 

“I love you so, so much Jes. I only feel like myself when I’m with you, and when I’m not with you, you’re all I think about. I know I fucked everything up, I know I’m the reason this all went south, and I know that I should be pushing you away and giving you time to heal, but- Jes, I’m not strong enough. I know now isn’t the time, know that you can’t trust me, but I just- I just want you to know I’m here. When you decide,  _ if _ you ever decide to let me try again- There’s no one else for me. It’s you, it’s always going to be you. I’ll wait. However long you want me to wait, I’ll wait. And if, in the end, you decide you don’t want me, or that I’m not what’s best for you, then- then I’ll uh, I’ll live with that. But, um. There’s never gonna be anyone else for me, Jes. It sounds cheese, and cringe, and probably a whole host of other things, but- but you’re everything to me. I don’t want anything in this life or the next but you.” 

Jesy looks near tears when I finish. I reach for her, but she flinches away from my touch. 

I don’t bother trying to mask my hurt. She knows me. She’d be able to see through it anyway. 

“Those are pretty words, Perrie. But- but you promised me this the last time. You said-” she says, her voice breaking.

She lets me take her hand this time, but she won’t let me pull her any closer. 

“You s-said the last time that, when it was time to tell the truth, you’d tell it.  _ We’d _ tell it. And I was ready to tell it, Pez! But then- but then you said-”

“I know, Jes. I know, okay? And I’m gonna regret what I said for the rest of my life. But- Jes, I wasn’t ready. To, like, come out, or whatever. I wasn’t ready- we’d only just figured things out, only just told our families- hell, I hadn’t even had time to tell my friends yet, and then- and then it was time, and we were on stage, and I couldn’t feel my face, and I couldn’t tell if it was real or some sort of weird stress dream and I couldn’t breathe and I guess Christian called me? But I hardly remember it, and-”

“Wait, what? Christian called you? Pez, slow down. Slow-”

“I can’t slow down! I didn’t have time to slow down!” I yell, trying to suck in deep breaths that never fill my lungs. “I-I- ah, I- Jesy-” I cry, reaching for her. She takes me into her arms immediately, holding me tight against her. 

Jes has always been the best at dealing with my anxiety attacks. They started around the beginning of the end with Zayn, when everything was up in the air and I didn’t know what was real and what was a lie, and they’ve been a part of my life ever since. Jes has always been really good at holding me and not asking any questions, so she’s always been my number one go-to to get through them. Having to endure them alone recently has been its own special sort of hell, and, even though she is sort of the cause of this one, I feel 10,000x better just being in her arms. 

She holds me firmly, pulls me onto her lap so that my knees sit on either side of hers. I wrap my arms around her neck so tight that it must be a little uncomfortable, but she doesn’t say anything but  _ breathe, Pezza. It’s alright, Love, just breathe. Listen, baba, listen. Breathe _ .

She repeats some variation of those words over and over until I try to match her breathing. 

“There you go, Love,” she coos, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. “There you go.”

My breathing starts to slow, my chest rising and falling with Jesy’s as she brings me back to earth. Only she can call to me, can stop these things before they really hurt me. 

I let my head rest on her shoulder once I feel a little closer to normal. 

I’m worried she’ll push me away, but she just relaxes her arms a bit so that she can drag her fingers up and down my back as she hums in my ear. 

I loosen my hold on her a little bit, noticing how she breathes in deeply when I do. 

“Sorry,” I apologize, my voice croakey, unsure exactly what I’m apologizing for. Is it for my attack, or for holding her too tight? Or is it just for everything I’ve put her through? 

“You don’t need to apologize, Pezza,” she says, pressing a kiss to my hair. 

I know Jesy won’t leave me by myself after what’s just happened, that she’ll let me choose when to pull away. 

_ I’ll just never leave her lap, then _ I decide, before realizing how unfair I’m being to her. 

I move to get up, but the second I start to leave her embrace, I scurry back into it, like a child running into the sea before realizing that the sea is a lot bigger and scarier and colder than it seems from the sandy, sun-warmed shore. 

Jesy lets me come back, giving the tiniest laugh as I bury myself in her embrace. 

“Can we have the rest of our talk like this?” I ask, pulling back just enough to look Jesy in the eye. 

Jesy looks so hesitant to give into my wishes- not like she-doesn’t-want-to hesitant, but like she-knows-she-shouldn’t hesitant. Like drinking hot chocolate that you know will burn you, making you incapable of tasting how delicious it is. It’ll ruin everything for you if you drink it too soon.

“I can, uh. I can get off, if- actually, I might need a little more time in your arms before I can get off, if you want to, um, have our talk with me, uh, not sitting on you,” I admit. It sounds like I’m whining and that I just want Jesy to hold me, but- I really don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it together if she lets go of me. 

“Is this how it felt?” I ask her. 

“How what felt?” She asks, confused. 

“How it felt when I- when I let go of your hand? On James Corden. When you trusted me to say right things, and I- and I said a bunch of stuff I can’t remember but I know it was all the wrong things and then I just ran off, and- God, Jesy. I have been so bad for you. I am truly, honestly, from the depths of my soul, sorry. And I’m sorry for trying to con you into being with me again, and-”

“Listen,” she cuts me off, “If anyone was conning, it was me. Friends with benefits was never gonna work, you know? But I- I wanted you, needed you, but I didn’t want to deal with any of our past trauma, and- the idea that our past could be avoided? We were so stupid to think that. So, so stupid. Thinking that I could just pretend we were fine without talking about it? Not one of my best moments, but- I can’t- I can’t explain it, Pez. I just needed you,” she says, squeezing her arms tight around me. 

“I need you too,” I say, burying my head in her neck. 

“Pezza, I. We can’t do this again, you know. We haven’t even resolved everything- or anything, really,” she says, rubbing a sure hand along my back. 

“Let’s resolve it then, yeah? I can take it, Jes. I need to know what I put you through. If you wanna talk about it,” I say, not wanting to force her into it. 

“You- just, don’t let go of me, alright?” She says seriously. 

“I swear, Jes. I swear I won’t let go,” I say. 

“Not again,” she says. I think it’s meant to be a little joke, but neither of us even close to laughs. 

“So, that night… I just. I was nervous, but, I don’t know. I felt at peace with it too. I loved you, you loved me. I could live with everyone knowing how much I loved you, you know? I could bear that.

“I could tell you were nervous when we sat down. You were biting your lip- er, not biting, but gnawing. I was worried it was gonna bleed. That’s why I took your hand, to give you something else to focus on. But you- you, uh. You shook me off. I knew something was wrong then, but I just- just thought maybe you were a bit nervous, or something. It’s a big thing, for sure. And it all happened so fast, the  _ getting  _ to that point- I mean, we went from not allowed to look at each other in public to telling  _ everyone _ about us in the span of a day, and it- I just remember thinking, “alright, Jes, you can get through this. And no matter what happens on that stage, you can go back to the hotel after, and spend the night snuggled in bed with Pezza, and- and it’ll all be okay. And then…” she says, blowing out a breath. Her eyes are glassy now, and she’s doing that thing where she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. 

I press a long kiss to her cheek, cradling her face in my hands to wipe her tears as they fall. 

She nods at me and I move my hands to her shoulders. 

She swallows. 

“And then- I was supposed to tell everyone, and- and then you… said what you did, and- God, Perrie. It felt like you’d ripped my heart out and stomped all over it. I told you-” she cuts off, her voice rising.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her jaw. 

“I told you that was my worst fear. That night, when we made our little contract? The first time we- well, you know,” she says, cheeks going red. 

I press a kiss to her red cheek. I want to make a joke, but I really don’t think now is the time. 

“I told you that my worst fear was that you’d just… decide one day that it was all in fun, that I wasn’t enough for you-”

She cuts off abruptly, swallowing a heavy breath. 

“And then- that night, I thought that maybe you had just- that something had happened, and I thought we could talk about it at the hotel, but then-”

“But then I wasn’t there,” I whisper, everything hitting me at once. My blunder could’ve been forgiven, my denial on TV, but not my abandoning Jesy. 

“Yeah. And I thought… I thought that meant…” she trails off, biting her lip and looking away. 

“You thought that meant that what I said was the truth,” I say in realization. “Jesy, I-”

“You don’t have to say it,” she says, putting a finger to my lips. “You’ve said sorry already, Pezza. You don’t need to say it again.”

I grab her hand, pressing a kiss to her outstretched finger before I speak. 

“Yeah, I do.”

She looks at me, biting at her lip, and nods. 

“Jesy, I am so, so sorry that I ran off that night. I’m sorry that I said what I said, too, but I’m especially sorry for running off after. I got so scared of how everyone would react that I ran away from you. I left you. I’ve spent this whole time trying to figure out how to make sure you know that I didn’t mean anything I said on the show that night, but really- I get now that it wasn’t just about what I said on TV. And I should’ve known, cause you know me better than I know me sometimes, but- it wasn’t about what I did in front of everyone. It’s what I didn’t do when it was just me and you. And I know you can’t trust me when I say this, that it’s too hard to believe what I say because I’ve hurt you before, but Jes- there’s something I need you to know. No matter what, I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else. In my 26 years on this earth, there’s no one I’ve ever loved like I love you. And whether you can believe me or not, I need you to know that it’s the truth. I need you to know how truly, madly, deeply I love you, that you’re absolutely it for me. I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to trust me again, but. I want to be in your life however you want me, okay? You’re my number one, Jes. My top priority, in public and in private, and I never want to do anything to make you question that ever again,” I finish, staring steadily into her eyes. 

I’m crying by the end, and so is she. She kisses me, hard and slow, and I taste the salt on her lips. 

I don’t chase her when she pulls back, though I want to. 

I do keep my hands on her head, though, letting my thumbs rest just under her ears. 

She brings up her hands to cover mine, looking at me with sad eyes. 

“Thank you for telling me that,” she says very softly, her voice raspy from her tears. “I love you, Perrie. But… we can’t do this right now,” she says, pulling my hands off her face. 

I feel my stomach in my throat, feel my heart bottom out, but I just nod. 

“If that’s what you want,” I say, feeling like I’m drowning. 

“It’s not what I want,” she says quickly, seriously. “But it’s what I think we need.”

_ I need you _ , I want to say. But, I’ve done things selfishly for most of our relationship, and my selfishness is what fucked everything up the first time. 

So, instead, I just say “okay.”

“Thank you,” she says, leaning her head against mine. 

“‘Course,” I say, wiping at my nose with the collar of my shirt. “Can, uh. I know everything is going to be weird, because we’re getting back into press, and we’re recording, and we’re gonna see each other all the time, but. I still want to be your friend, Jes. I meant it when I said that I’d be whatever you needed.”

_ I still love you _ , my heart screams. 

My mouth stays shut. 

“I still need you, Pez,” Jesy says, grabbing my hands in hers. “I still need my best friend.”

I nod furiously, feeling new tears spring to my eyes. 

“Good, ‘cause- I don’t- I can’t live without you, Jes,” I say.

“Perrie-” she warns, and I shake my head rapidly.

“Sorry,” I spill out. “I’ll, um. I’ll- ah, I’m working on it.”

She nods slowly, processing. 

I mean to say something else, but I get distracted by how green her eyes look when they’re all puffy and red-rimmed. 

God help me. 

I pull my eyes aware as soon as I can bear to, pulling myself out of her embrace even though it feels wrong. 

Jesy shudders when I do, and I see her hand reach for me on reflex. She squeezes it into a fist, letting it drop to her side. 

We spend the next couple of minutes just sitting next to each other, not touching, sniffling and breathing hard. 

I’m convinced that this is what hell is- sitting next to the person you love most, hearing their cries, and being unable to reach out and comfort them. And knowing I’m the cause of her tears? 

It’s unbearable.

Nothing happens for a few more minutes as we let the implications of the words we’ve just said, the agreement we’ve just made, sink in. 

Always the braver of the two of us, Jesy is the first to stand from the couch. 

“I should probably head home,” she says, wiping furiously at her eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths, trying to get it together. 

“Sure,” I say, my tears persisting even though I’m making every effort to stop them. “Do you- um. I’ll help you gather your things,” I say, heading to my room. 

“Thanks,” she whispers as I walk away. 

I try not to fall victim to my emotions as I gather her things, working quickly. 

She’s standing next to the front door when I emerge from my room, her studio kit, jumper, and her purse in hand. 

I hold her hat, shoes, and the bite guard she hates so much out towards her. 

She takes them, careful not to let her skin touch mine, and that nearly sends me into a ball on the floor. 

I hold it together, though, offering what’s meant to be a little smile as I move a hand to the doorknob. 

Jes smiles back at me, though her smile isn’t much of a smile either. 

I open the door, looking at the floor as I do. 

“Well,” Jesy says. Glancing up at her, she looks as sick, as scared, as heartbroken as I feel. 

Still, she’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. 

“Goodbye, Jes,” I say, mournful. 

“Bye, Pezza,” she says, wrapping her arms around me for the briefest moment before she takes off out the door. 

I watch her run out to the car she must’ve called while we gathered her things, watch her get into the backseat and throw the door closed quick as she can.

I swear she looks back when she sits down, but it might just be my imagination wishing she would. It’s hard to tell from the tint of the windows and from the way my tears blur my vision. 

I close the door, feeling the wait of the situation settle squarely on my shoulders, threatening to pin me down under it forever. 

I feel so heavy that I’m dragging both feet by the time I reach my bed, collapsing onto it. 

I wish I could smell, so that I might catch the scent of Jesy’s perfume on the sheets. I’m ready to have a proper, wailing cry just thinking about her, but something is holding me back. 

Until I catch sight of a rogue red hair on my white sheets.

Then, the tears come. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: What is this?? multiple NEM updates in the span of a week? Don't say I never gave you anything.   
I haven't been sleeping, which means I've been doing loads of writing. I'm quite content at the minute, honestly.   
I debated waiting to put this up for a while cause I don't want you guys to get tired of NEM. So, please let me know what you think!! Should I have waited? Did you want it sooner? What's the vibe? lol  
Also, I'd love to know what you guys thought of this chap in general! It's pretty spoken-monologue heavy, which is a lil different for me (not a way I'll write often, but this convo kinda called for it, yk?) and we get a bit of fluff but also a bit of heartbreak. What do you guys want to see next? Do you want them back together, or do you like them better as friends?  
I also have a oneshot ready to go that I may post soon, but it's a bit of a downer. soz.   
Alright, in an effort to make this a/n a reasonable length, imma go now.   
see yous later! please leave kudos and let me know what you think!  
Have a swell weekend!   
xx  
sydd  
tumblr @16sydd16


	6. you just gotta believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nothing like a little liquid courage...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!  
xx

The first time I crawl out of bed is around dinner, when I convince myself that the reason I feel sick is because I haven’t eaten. 

I don’t even get the milk into the bowl of cinnamon toast crunch I was planning to force down before I end up back under the covers, hiding from the mug of too-milky tea on the counter. 

I spring back out of bed after just a few moments, telling myself I need to take care of it before it becomes some weird sort of untouchable shrine to the last time Jesy was in my house, but I lose all determination to dump it down the drain as soon as I catch sight of it again. 

Weird shrine it is. 

I make my way back to bed, this time with a barely-opened bottle of wine and an ativan. 

It does the trick.

I don’t wake up until 11 the next day, feeling beyond hungover. The only time I’ve felt even close to this bad was when-

Fuck. 

It was the night Jesy and I kissed for the first time. Waking up with Jesy in my arms that hungover morning, while both miserable and terrifying, was also exhilarating and thrilling and full of butterflies. 

Waking up today is just miserable. 

I click the alarm on my phone off quickly. 

_ Lunch with Leigh!✨ _ It’s labelled. 

I send her a quick voice-memo, too groggy to be bothered to type it all out, letting her know that I had  _ the talk _ with Jes and that I won’t be able to make it to lunch today. 

She sends back a quick  _ Aw, Pezza. Do you want company? _

_ Not really, _ I reply.  _ Thanks, tho _ .

_ Of course❤️ Call me if you change your mind!  _

_ Will do, Leigh _ , I reply.  _ Love you _ 💛

_ Love you too, Pez _ 💜

I piss most of the rest of the day away, splitting time equally between crying, drinking, and cleaning. I schedule another appointment with Lindsey as well, knowing I’ll need it to even have a shot at keeping myself halfway together. 

Late in the night (and after several glasses of wine), I pen a song that is probably very misspelled and definitely very soppy, eventually passing out on the couch next to my favorite guitar. 

I wake (barely) to my 9 o’clock alarm with a crick in my neck and my left arm asleep. 

_ Finally living that rockstar lifestyle _ , my brain taunts. 

I ignore the jab, not even having the energy to argue with myself. 

I peel my tired, sweaty body off the couch and take my favorite guitar back up to my room before I amble into the shower.

I manage to take most of my clothes off before I turn the water on, so. At least there’s that.

I dress systematically, finding a cap and big sunglasses to hide my swollen, cried-out eyes and keep out the light. 

I’m really fuckin’ hungover. 

I’m not feeling much better by the time I reach the studio. Jade nearly asks about it, I think, but Leigh waves her off. 

Jesy’s the only member of Little Mix yet to arrive, which is a little bit of a surprise. I’m usually the last to arrive, but then again, I’m not as late as I usually am. 

She sneaks in a few minutes after me, settling into the corner chair next to Jade. No one says anything, cause we’re in the middle of our sound booth briefing. I can’t tell if she’s looking at me cause she keeps her sunglasses on. 

Though I can’t see her eyes, I’d wager that she’s just as hungover as me. Or as cried out.

Maybe both. 

The sound engineers finish their little speil. 

I pretend not to notice Leigh and Jade looking concernedly between the two of us. Instead, I slip my headphones on to listen to the track we’ll be recording on today. It’s cute, boppy, a little catchy, and could be a nice addition to our next album, even if it’s clearly not single material. 

I listen three times, trying to focus on the song and not really succeeding, before I take my headphones off and read over the lyrics again. 

Leigh talks, something about booth time, but I don’t hear anything she says. All of my energy is taken up trying not to look at Jesy, even though I’m desperate to see her. 

“Pez? Jes?” Jade asks. 

I look towards her, but say nothing. Jesy doesn’t speak either. 

“Sorry, what?” I say when it’s clear I’ve missed whatever question Jade asked. 

“I was just seeing who wanted to go in the booth first,” she says quietly. 

“You go ahead,” I say, turning my eyes back down toward my paper. 

“You sure?” Jade asks. 

I nod. 

I see her turn her head to Jes and let myself sneak a peek. 

Jes nods as well, attempting a smile. 

It’s not at all convincing. 

“Okay, then,” Jade says, standing up from her chair. 

We sit quietly as Jade steps into the booth. 

I fix my eyes on my paper and put my headphones back on. 

By the time Jade’s finished her bit, I still don’t know any of the words. My mind is full of Jesy, and being in this close proximity to her? It’s physically painful.

Jade comes back to the table and Leigh goes back into the booth. 

Still, no words are exchanged between any of us. 

When Leigh comes back, I’ve still made no progress. 

“Do either of you- uh. Who wants to go next?” Leigh asks, trying to be cheerful. 

I look up, and my eyes meet Jesy’s for the first time. We’ve both taken off our glasses, and I know neither of us is thrilled with what we see. 

My eyes are still bloodshot, I know that. Hers aren’t so veiny, but they’re just as red and twices as puffy. 

“You can go,” she says, impossibly softly. 

“No, it’s fine,” I say. “I, um. I still haven’t learnt the words.”

“Me either,” she says, and her voice cracks. 

“Well you’ve had all bloody day,” Jade says, the large, forced smile on her face making it clear that she’s joking.

“I’m, uh, having trouble focusing,” I offer when the silence stretches too long.

“Yeah. I, ah,” Jesy says, swallowing. “Actually, I’m sorry. I’m not feeling too well, and I- I think I’m gonna go,” she trails off, phrase ending in a whisper. 

“Okay,” Jade says gently. “That’s fine. We’ve got plenty of time. Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, it’s fine,” Jesy says, trying to smile. “I’ll ah. I’ll see yous later.”

“Of course,” Leigh says sweetly, getting up to give her a hug. 

Jade follows. 

I stand, my hands fisting uselessly at my sides, unsure of what to do.

Jesy walks toward me slowly, and I look up. 

I can see the tears in her eyes, and I feel my throat close at the sight. 

I pull her into my arms quickly, squeezing tight. 

She lets out a little whimper when I do, but crushes me in her embrace nonetheless. 

She pulls back too soon, uttering a quick  _ bye _ and rushing out the door.

I bring my hands to my face as she leaves, as if I’ll be able to physically hold the tears in my eyes. 

I take a couple deep breaths, knowing I have to face Leigh and Jade at some point, and let my hands fall. 

I open my mouth to tell them what happened, knowing they want to know, but the only sound that comes out is a sort of choking noise. 

Jade’s there first, pulling me into her arms. 

“Oh, Pezza,” she says quietly, and the dam breaks. 

Leigh comes round my other side so I’m sandwiched between the two of them as I cry.

It takes lots of soothing and shushing, but eventually, my tears slow enough that I’m breathing almost normally. 

“D’ya wanna sit down?” Jade asks, gesturing to the beanbag in the corner of the room. 

I nod. 

She and Leigh keep hold of me, and the three of us shuffle over to the large beanbag, collapsing on it. 

I lean my head on Jade’s shoulder and let my legs get all crossed up with Leigh’s.

Jade strokes my hair as Leigh rubs my back, and for the first time since Jesy walked out my door, I almost feel like I can breathe. 

“D’you wanna tell us what happened, or is it too much?” Jade asks, pressing her lips to my forehead. 

“I can tell yous,” I say softly, and with a surety that surprises even me. 

Jade gives an encouraging nod. 

I fill them in on everything, tired of hiding. I start with what really happened on James Corden, and work my way to the present. 

I only cry to the point of having to stop telling the story once, near the very end. It’s harder to explain what’s happening  _ now _ , with everything still so fresh. Leigh never stops rubbing my back, and Jade doesn’t move a muscle. She just lets me lean on her. 

“We decided,” I say, trying to fight the unpleasant shudder that wracks my body. “We decided that it was too messy, that- uh, that it would be too hard for either of us to go on if we let things get any more serious and something happened. She still can’t trust me,” I pause, blowing air out slowly through my nearly closed lips. “Which is fair. And we decided that it was too risky, this whole thing. We, um. We know we put you two through the ringer, and we’re not gonna do that again. It was selfish. So, we’re- Fuck, I can’t say it out loud.”

“That’s okay,” Jade soothes. 

“You two are… um, you’re not doing the friends with benefits thing anymore? Or the relationship thing,” Leigh clarifies, wanting to confirm.

“No,” I say, my breath catching in my throat. 

“Okay,” Leigh says, her voice neutral. 

We all just sit there another few minutes. 

Nobody says it, but we can all feel that something is wrong. It always feels wrong with three of us. Two of us can get by. Two of us is just friends catching up, running errands, hanging out, the like. With three, it always feels like someone is being left out. 

It feels like something’s missing. 

Eventually, I manage to drag myself out from between Leigh and Jade. I still feel like there’s an endless pit where my heart should be, but things are the tiniest bit more bearable than they were when I came in here today. 

“I should be getting home,” I explain, looking around the room for my bag. 

“Okay,” Jade says, smiling softly. “Are you going to be alright gettin’ there on your own?”

“Yeah,” I say, sounding tired. 

Jade doesn’t look convinced, so I try and manage a little smile. 

She still looks skeptical, but there’s nothing more I can do, so I just leave it. 

“You sure you don’t need a ride? Andre’s already here,” Leigh says sweetly. 

“Has he been waiting this whole time?” I ask.

“Just the last 10 or so minutes. He’s fine, he don’t mind,” Leigh insists. “Do you want us to drive you?”

“No, that’s alright. It’s quite a bit out of the way. Thank you, though,” I say, pulling Leigh in for a hug. 

“Of course,” she says, squeezing me tight. 

She holds me for far longer than people hold their emotionally stable friends, but I’m not complaining. 

With a loaded look at Jade, Leigh bids us goodbye. 

“D’ya mind if we share a car? You’re flat’s quite close to mine, anyway,” Jade says. 

“You don’t have to baby me, Jade. I’ll be fine,” I say unconvincingly. 

“I feel bad. About how hard I was on you, now that I know the whole story,” Jade says. “Let me start making up for lost time.”

“Yeah, sure,” I acquiesce. I can’t pretend that I’m not happy to not be alone. 

Jade sends for a car, insistent on paying, and I don’t try to fight her ‘cos we’ve agreed not to fight one another on money. We’re all pretty good at picking up the tab here and there, treating each other when we can. It’s pointless to fight.

Jade seems content to just sit with an arm around me on the ride home, which is honestly what I need. The best part about Jade offering comfort is that she doesn’t try to force you to talk. She’s just there. If you want to talk? Go for it. If not? She’s content to just be a shoulder to cry on. 

I nearly doze on her as we drive, my hangover, my tears, and the overall stress of seeing Jes again have made me quite tired. 

I don’t even realize that Jade’s getting out of the car with me until we’re halfway up my driveway. 

“Are you coming in?” I ask, a little surprised. 

“Just to tuck you in,” she tells me. “You need to go back to sleep, Perrie.”

I don’t disagree.

Just as she promised, Jade leads me up to my room and lets me strip off and climb under the covers. 

She tucks them tight around me, pronouncing me  _ snug as a bug in a rug _ before she presses a long kiss to my forehead. 

“Things will get better, Perriewinkle. I know they will. I’m sorry I never really gave you the chance to explain things. I just- you know how protective I am of you girls, you know? Especially Jesy, ‘cos she’s always lookin’ out for everyone but herself. I hope you can forgive me, Pezza,” she says softly, looking a little ashamed. 

“I was never mad, Jadey. All is forgiven,” I say with a yawn. 

Jade grins at me as I do. “Get some sleep, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too,” I reply, burrowing into the covers. 

I’m barely awake long enough to see Jade switch off the light. 

I wake around 5pm to an alarm I don’t remember setting. 

Turns out, it’s ‘cos I didn’t set it. 

_ Check the kitchen _ , the alarm reads. 

On the counter I find a note from Jade, telling me that she’s ordered dinner to be dropped off around 6 and that I should wash up before. Take a  _ cleansing  _ shower, whatever that means. I’m a little hippy dippy, but Jade’s the one who’s into meditation n’ crystals n’ shit- one of which she’s left with the note. 

It’s pink and smooth, but that’s about all I can tell you. I’ve no idea what it’s meant to be for. 

Still, I figure a shower can’t hurt. Plus, I like having someone care for me, tell me what to do. It’s nice. 

After my shower and my lovely deliveroo dinner, I play for a while. I only cry a little as I strum, doing more playing than singing tonight. Still, it’s a comfort, and I go to bed with just a glass of wine tonight instead of a bottle. 

I spend the next few days slowly piecing back together the parts of me that I know how to reassemble. 

We go into the studio 2x2 a couple days this week- Leigh’s with me one day and Jade’s keeps me company on the other. I think it was their idea to give Jesy and I a little more time to reassemble ourselves before forcing us back into the fire. 

I see Lindsey on Thursday before our next full-group session that Friday. 

I fill her in on what’s been going on and she actually scoffs when I tell her about mine and Jesy’s attempt at being friends with benefits. 

“Very professional,” I remark drily. 

“I could say the same about you,” she replies in kind. “Sleeping with a coworker is risky business, Perrie. That coworker being your best friend? You’re just asking for trouble at that point.”

“Alright, fine,” I agree. “But I couldn’t help it. It just sort of… happened.”

“No,” Lindsey says, waggling her finger. “Things don’t just happen. You make choices that cause them to happen. Giving Jesy a drunk peck? Sure, that could just “happen.” But everything after that? All of that was a choice, babe.”

I’m silent for a moment. It sounds stupid, but I’ve never thought of it like that. 

“Huh,” I say, thinking about all of the choices I’ve made that I didn’t realize I was making. “You know, occasionally you say something that makes me think you might actually have a brain in that pretty little American head of yours.”

“Funny,” she sneers. “And thank you.”

I nod at her. 

We chat the rest of the session before I hug her goodbye and set an appointment for next Thursday as well. 

Once I’m home, I whip up a quick dinner. 

Afterwards, I decide to do a bit of writing. I’m not sure how long I was intending to write tonight, but I end up writing for hours. My fingers ache from the constant plucking of the guitar strings, which is quite a feat, considering how calloused my hands are. 

A lot of what I managed to jot down tonight is messy, and there are a couple of lengthy, rambly audio recordings that I’m not sure anything will come of, but when I finally go to bed, I feel satisfied. 

I rise a little earlier than usual, unable to sit in bed with my thoughts any longer. I slept a little, though not as much as I had hoped I would. I decide to take a long shower, needing something to occupy my extra time. 

The shower’s warm, anyway. 

Our interaction today is about as minimal as we can manage, but it’s not unfriendly. 

All four of us are on eggshells, clearly, but Jade and Leigh do their best to carry the conversation. 

It’s sort of strange, being around Jesy like this, in this weird window of “after.” We’ve been moving to deepen our relationship over these last 8 years, to get closer. For the first time, we’re both actively moving to pull back, to put some space between us, and it just doesn’t feel right. 

Still, we somehow get through the day. 

I cry into my chicken at dinner, though. 

I fall asleep with a glass of wine on my couch shortly after.

I wake up around midnight, and decide to move to my bed instead. I always have a backache after sleeping on the couch, even though it cost me an arm and a leg. 

I’m stashing the blanket in the ottoman when I hear the tapping. 

It’s quiet, and not consistent, but it’s there. 

I wander towards the door cautiously, grabbing a brit from the mantle just in case. 

A quick look through the peephole both assuages my worries and knocks the breath from my lungs. 

I throw the door open quickly. 

“Perrie!” She squeals, wrapping her arms around me. 

“Hey, Jes,” I say softly, trying not to think about how at home I feel in her arms. “What- ah, what’s going on?”

“Well,” she starts, “I wen’ out with Jaaaadey, n’ we talked, n’ I cried- a lot, Pez. My eyes  _ hurt _ . And Jade told me that… God, you’re so warm,” Jesy says, resting her head on my shoulder. 

I can’t help the little smile that finds it’s way to my face. Nor can I help the way my arms just seem to fit around her, keeping her close to me. 

“Jes?” I ask after a few quiet moments. 

“Yeah?” She asks, lips buzzing against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. 

“What did Jadey tell you?” I ask, running my hands along her back. 

“I can’t remember,” she whispers. “Wait, maybe I do.”

“D’ya wanna tell me?” I prompt when she goes quiet again. 

“She told me that I needed to talk to you. ‘Bout how I was feelin’,” she says.

“She told you to come over here?” I ask.

“No, she told me to wait til’ I wassober. But then I got in the lyft n’ the driver said this was my preset addressn’ I couldn’t remember my addressso he brought me here,” She says, slurring her s’s. 

“Well, I’m glad to see you,” I say. I am. Why lie? She’s not gonna remember this tomorrow anyway. 

“I’m glad to see you too, Pezza. So, so glad,” she says with a sigh. “It makes me so sad when I don’t see you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Baba. I miss you too.”

We stay like that for quite some time, holding one another in the doorway, before Jesy starts to look a little green.

“Perrie, I don’t-” is all she gets out before she runs to the first floor bathroom. 

I follow after her, holding her hair and rubbing her back as she spills her guts.

After a couple of minutes of retching, she slumps back against me. 

I take her into my arms with no hesitation, cradling her against me. 

“Sorry,” she whispers. “My tummy hurt.”

“It’s alright, baby,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her sweaty head. I know I’ve crossed a line, but I can’t find it in me to care. Having Jesy in my arms again feels like finally coming home.

I don’t know how I meant to go on in life without her. I mean, I guess I have her, but not in the way I want. I think that’s worse. It makes a clean break impossible. Not that I want a clean break, but. I suppose it’d be nice to have the option. 

We sit huddled together on the bathroom floor for a few more minutes. I want to make sure her puking spell is good and finished before I tuck her into bed. 

“Are you feeling better, Lover?” I ask, humming the words right into her ear. 

“Much better now,” she sighs, nuzzling her head back into me. 

“Do you wanna go get in bed?” I ask. 

“In your bed? With you?” She asks. 

“In my bed,” I say softly, “but not with me.”

“Why not?” She asks, and though her face is turned away from me, I can hear her pout in her voice. “‘Cos you don’t want to?”

“No, baby. I want to. Bloody hell, do I want to. But I can’t. ‘Cos it’s a bad idea.”

“I know,” she says, getting choked up. “‘Cos we’re a bad idea. ‘Cos of Little Mix. And ‘cos you don’t wanna tell anyone.”

“It’s not that I don’t wanna tell anyone,” I say. “It’s that I can’t.”

“Why not?” She asks, voice just as sad as before. “Don’t you wanna be with me? I wanna be with you, Pez. I don’t wanna be me without you. I need you.”

“Jes, you’re not gonna remember this in the morning,” I say, trying to keep my voice from breaking. 

“I know. ‘Cos tequila. I don’t remember stuff when I have tequila,” she says regretfully. “Well, most stuff. I remember you, Pezza. Even with tequila.”

“I hope you don’t remember this,” I tell her honestly.

“Why?” She says, turning in my arms to look at me. 

“‘Cos it’s sad,” I say, leaning my forehead against hers. 

“I hope I remember it,” she says. “Sorry, my breath smells bad.”

“I don’t mind. I can’t smell it anyway, remember?” I remind her.

“Oh yeah,” she says, her face lighting up in the cutest way. “I remember. ‘Cos I used to pick your perfume for you. ‘Cos I can smell and I like when you smell good.”

I smile at her, big and bright. 

“I hope I remember,” she says, screwing her eyes shut tight. 

“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing a bit in spite of it all. 

“I’m reminding myself to remember,” she says, eyes still shut and face still scrunched. 

“Why do you wanna remember so bad, huh? You puked,” I remind her, still smiling at her silliness. 

“‘Cos I’m with you. And you’re holding me. I miss you so much when you don’t hold me. You don’t even have to be in love with me Pez, ‘cos we’re a bad idea. But can you still hold me sometimes? Please?” She begs, and I don’t have the heart to tell her no. 

“Let’s get you to bed, Jes,” I say instead. 

“Will you hold me?” She asks, ever-persistent. 

“Til you fall asleep,” I acquiesce. 

“Okay,” she says surprisingly easily. I expected more of a fight, though I suppose I shouldn’t’ve. Jesy can barely keep her eyes open. 

“Okay,” I parrot, pulling myself up to my feet and taking Jesy with me. I’m stronger than I look, and, muscly as Jesy is, she really doesn’t weigh all that much. Plus, she’s an easy, cooperative drunk. Drunk Jesy is like regular Jesy, except a little less stubborn and a little more sweet. 

After we make it to our feet, I try to lead Jesy by the hand, but she’s having none of it. 

“You said you’d hold me ‘til I fell asleep,” she says indignantly. 

I take it back. Drunk Jesy is no less stubborn than sober Jesy. She is quite sweet, though. Not that sober Jesy isn’t sweet. Well, most of the time. 

Maybe drunk Jesy and sober Jesy aren’t all that different. 

“Perrie,  _ hold me _ ,” she whispers drunkenly. 

Whisper is a  _ loose _ term. She sort of yells into my ear, but she does it quietly. It’s still softer than Leigh’s everyday whisper, but then again, most things are. 

I wind an arm around her and she leans on me, letting me lead her up to my bedroom without contest this time. 

We reach my bedroom and I realize that Jes is still in the clothes she wore out.

“Do you want to borrow something to sleep in?” I ask. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just sleep naked,” she says, already stripping off. 

“No,” I say, pulling her shirt back down. “No.”

“Is it ‘cos it’s a bad idea?” she asks, a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She may be drunk off her ass, but she knows exactly what she’s doing. 

“Yes, it’s ‘cos it’s a bad idea,” I say, playfully rolling my eyes. 

“Is kissing also a bad idea?” she asks too seriously. 

“Yes, Jes.”

“Is it ‘cos I have puke breath?” she asks, genuinely seeming a little puzzled. 

“That’s one of the reasons, I suppose,” I muse, humouring her. 

“Perrie, can I go wash my mouth out? It tastes gross,” she says, her brows knitting together. 

“Of course, love. But we still can’t kiss. Even after you rinse out your mouth,” I say sternly, though I’m smiling. 

“I know that,” she says, her eyes going a little crossed when she shakes her head at me. 

I can’t help but laugh and press a kiss to her salty forehead. I really can’t be held accountable for giving Jes forehead kisses when she does things that are unbelievably cute. It would be like shooing away a puppy instead of petting him and telling him what a good boy he is. Some people may be able to do it, but I just can’t. Just like I can’t resist the urge to kiss Jesy’s forehead right now.

“Pez, you said  _ no kisses _ ,” she calls me out, even though she leans into me when I kiss her head.

“No mouth kisses,” I amend. “Is that alright with you?” 

She nods drunkenly, happily. “All kisses are okay with me.”

I look at her worriedly. 

“I know, I know,” she says, letting herself drift away from me a bit. “Bad idea. Can I go rinse my mouth out now?”

I nod, grabbing a t-shirt out of my PJ drawer and handing it to her. “Can you get to the bathroom by yourself?” I ask, watching her sway a little as she walks. 

She nods, ambling slowly to the ensuite bathroom.

She comes back a few minutes later, reaching out for me as soon as she crawls into bed. 

I giggle a little, my heart feeling unbelievably light because Jesy’s  _ here  _ again. It’s not like it used to be, but I can almost pretend for a moment here in this yellowy moonlight.

I try to insist that I stay above the covers but Jesy’s having none of it. 

I mean, I’m not exactly fighting that hard. 

I lay down under the covers and she snuggles into my arms immediately. I expect her to turn away from me so that I can spoon her- she loves being the little spoon and I love holding her, so it’s a win-win- but she stays facing me, burying her head in my neck.

My arms come up around her automatically, our limbs tangling together accordingly. I don’t think we can physically get any closer than we currently are, and I already know it’s going to be nearly impossible to escape Jesy’s embrace without her waking. 

The longer we lay here, the more I realize that her trapping me was intentional. 

She starts to snore nearly right away, but when I try to pull away, she mumbles “m’ not asleep yet” until I settle back down beside her. 

This happens every five or so minutes until, around 45 minutes later, I just resign myself to the fact that I’m sleeping here until my mid-sleep pee break. 

So, I settle in, pressing one last kiss to Jesy’s still-clammy forehead before I’m out like a light. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: (I was gonna cut this a little shorter, but I wanted to leave you in a nice place🤗)
> 
> Friends, I am giving you all the cONTENT!
> 
> If there are any people here that do not like me, you get content too!! 
> 
> EVERYONE gets content! I am nondiscriminatory with my content. 
> 
> So, here's what's up: I've recently published a smut book that features not just Pesy, but ALL of LM in the first smutshot. There's a Part II featuring all of them that will be out within the week, and there's also at least one Alerresy (Alex x Perrie x Jesy) oneshot coming up. Of course, there's also a bunch of Pesy, cause (as wbk) they're my OTP✨ 
> 
> If you play your cards right (aka if you comment and tell me how much you wANT it) you could be getting another NEM update very soon too:) !! 
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe amid the Corona pandemic! PLEASE listen to your elected officials. If you're being told to stay home, stay home! I'm immunocompromised, so I haven't left my house since I got home from college. I know it's a rough time for a lot of people mental-health wise (myself included), but we can do this!! Please do all you can to stay safe and stay hopeful. What is happening right now will not last forever. We just have to get through.
> 
> Anyway, please do your best to stay safe, and make sure to try and stay social while socially distancing! You're friends are just as bored as you, I promise. Give 'em a call, send 'em a text, send them a post that you found funny. Just small things. Try and make someone's day just a little bit better, and I promise you'll feel better too!
> 
> If you've somehow made it to the end of this author's note, bless you. It was long and winding, I know. Please comment and/or leave kudos if you want to!! I love reading your comments, and I've got plenty of time to reply to them right now:) Seriously, they make my day so much brighter. I live for validation, which is not how you should live! But it's where we're at rn lmao. These are dark times, babes. 
> 
> okay, imma go. Please comment! 
> 
> Also, have a swell day, and thanks for taking the time to read my writing. It means a lot to me❤️
> 
> See yous in the next one!
> 
> xx
> 
> sydd
> 
> tumblr @16sydd16


	7. if it leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft, drunk, naked.   
Do you really need any more of a summary?  
✨

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one picks up right where the previous left off.   
hope you enjoy!  
xx

I’m not sure quite how much time has passed when I wake, alarmed by the emptiness of the bed next to me. 

It takes me a second to work out whether Jesy was actually here or if I was just having a very vivid dream. It might take me longer if I couldn’t hear the retching in the bathroom. 

“Oh, babe,” I murmur, flicking on the bedroom light to illuminate the bathroom a bit as I step into it. 

Jes’s head is hovering over the toilet, her whole body heaving with each keck.

I gather her hair behind her like I had earlier in the night, feeling the unpleasant sliminess as I realize that I’m a touch too late. There’s sick in Jesy’s hair, enough that she’ll probably need a shower.

Still, I do what I can for the time being, gathering back her hair and holding her tight against me as she heaves, hoping that I’m helping. 

After the third round of retches for this spell, she collapses against me fully, her face streaked with little tears. 

I press kisses to her cheek, hoping to avoid the sick.

She pushes me away a little. “No, I- I’m gross. You can go back to bed Pez, I’ll take care of it.”

“Not gonna happen,” I murmur. “I’ll take care of you.”

“No, ‘cos I’m- I did this to myself, and then I came here and- and you’ve had to deal with me being all drunk-”

“You’re still a little drunk,” I accuse, gently but firmly.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, though she’s a lot more sober than she was when she arrived. “I’m still a little… out of it.”

“Let me take care of you, then. Please, Jes,” I beg, not caring that I sound a little pathetic. “I promised I’d hold you until you went to sleep, and you’re not asleep.”

She manages a tiny smile, but mostly, she just looks sad. “Gosh, Perrie-”

“Not tonight,” I plead, wanting to stay in this little drunk delusion. “Tonight, you showed up at my door, drunk off your ass and filled with tequila. I’m gonna take care of you, and hold you ‘til you fall asleep, and you’re not gonna remember it in the morning. Okay?” 

“What if I want to remember?” She asks, clutching a hand round my arm. 

“You’re not gonna,” I say softly. “‘Cos it’s a bad idea.” 

“‘Cos it’s a bad idea,” she parrots, nodding her head, like she’s reminding herself.

I have to keep reminding myself, too, ‘cos when Jesy’s in my arms? Nothing seems like a bad idea. 

She lifts a hand to push some hair back from her face, flinching a little when she realizes there’s puke in it. 

She looks down at her shirt, realizing there’s puke on it too. 

“I got sick on your shirt,” she says apologetically. 

“I don’t much like that one anyway,” I say honestly. “Do you wanna get in the shower?”

“Yeah. I should. I feel gross. But my hair… shit, I really don’t wanna wash my hair. I can already tell that my arms are gonna get that dehydrated sort of sore, you know? Where everything aches,” she says, already looking proper tired. 

“I’ll wash it for you,” I offer, not thinking why that might be a little awkward logistically. 

“Pez… I feel like that’s a bad idea,” she says.

“I can put my swimsuit on,” I offer seriously, before I realize that that’s kind of ridiculous. 

“It’s okay, Perriewinkle. Could you maybe get me some water while I get in?” she asks, dragging herself away from me a bit. 

I hop to my feet immediately, pulling her up gently after I do. 

“‘Course,” I say, pulling her tight against me when I see her go a little unsteady on her feet. I’m not sure if she’s residually drunk, mentally tired, or just physically exhausted from her bout, but any way you slice it, she’s in no condition to do anything besides crawl in bed. 

“Are you gonna be alright while I run to the kitchen?” I ask seriously.

“Yes, Mummy,” she says sarcastically, as if it’s ridiculous that I’m worried. And I suppose it is a little ridiculous, but. I’m  _ worried.  _

“Okay,” I say, flicking the shower on before I head for the kitchen. 

I knock when I get back, expecting Jesy to be in the shower, surprised when I hear her quiet “come in” from the other side of the bathroom. 

She’s sat on the closed toilet when I come in, her head in her hands. 

She raises it a little when I walk in, offering me a not-at-all-convincing smile. 

“Jesy…” I whine. 

“I just need a minute, Pez. I’m a little dizzy. It’s probably ‘cos I’m thirsty,” she says, holding a hand out for the glass. 

I walk over, placing the glass in her hands.

Then, I just sort of… stand there. 

After a few sips and a deep breath, she looks up at me, like she’s a little surprised I’m still there.

“Perrie,” she starts, “are you gonna leave so I can get in?”

“What if you need help?” I ask seriously, a little miffed when Jes laughs me off. 

“I’ve been showering on my own for 25 or so years at this point, Pezza. I think I can handle it,” she says, though she doesn’t exactly sound sure. 

“I’d feel better if I stayed,” I say quietly. “In case you fall or something.”

She looks up at me, hint of a glare on her face.

“I’ll turn around!” I say, though I do no such thing. 

She just keeps looking at me, as if to say “well.”

“I’m gonna help you up first,” I explain, holding out a hand.

Jesy takes it, though she does give a little huff, and lets me pull her up. 

She falls into me, unsteady on her feet, and I wrap my arms tight around her. 

To keep her safe.

She lets herself lean on me for some time, pulling back slowly when she does.

My concerns are nearly past my lips when she mutters “I’ll be fine. You can baby me once I get out, alright? I can shower by myself.”

“Okay,” I agree, though I don’t want to. “I’m still staying in the bathroom, though.”

“Fine,” she acquiesces. “Turn around.” 

So I do. 

She calls that she’s in once she is, and then I sit on the counter of the double vanity, waiting for Jesy to need me. 

“Perrie, which- which one’s the shampoo? It’s in French.”

I have a moment of déjà vu, my mind recalling this same conversation we had what seems like a lifetime ago. I think it was that first morning, after we kissed, when everything was so unsure but so exciting. It feels like it’s been years since that conversation, when in reality, it’s only been a few months. 

Hell of a few months, though.

“Jes, the French word for shampoo is basically the same as the English one,” I say as I shake my head. I know it comes out a bit short, an unintentional result of that hopeful memory colliding with our current reality. 

“Well, they both say shampooing!” She says in response to my unexplained grumpiness, her voice going all squeaky, like she’s near tears. “How am I supposed to tell the difference?” 

“It’s- the shampoo just says  _ shampooing _ . The conditioner says  _ après-shampooing _ . It means after shampooing, or something like that,” I say softly, feeling bad for snapping at her like I did. 

“Thanks,” she says, just as softly. 

No longer able to sit idly by I stand up, pacing a bit with my worry for Jesy and my worry for us together. If we were still a couple, or had never been a couple, this wouldn’t be that weird. I mean, it might be a little weird, but Jes is my best friend. Even if I weren’t hopelessly in love with her, I’d still wash her hair for her if she was sick. 

Or that’s what I tell myself, at least. That’s the thought that propels me forward to the shower door, has me reaching for the handle. 

Jesy pulls the door open before I can grab it, though. 

Her head peeks out, not quite as soapy as it should be, and her eyes meet mine. They look proper dark now, only illuminated by the light spilling in from my bedroom into my windowless bathroom. 

“Can you help me?” she asks, tears streaking down her already wet face. 

“Of course,” I say, immediately stripping off. 

I open the shower at the back, slipping in behind Jes. Her hair is already wet, but her arms hang limp at her sides. 

“I’m gonna grab the shampoo, okay?” I tell her, coming closer to her. 

“Okay,” she says, her throat still sounding tight. 

I grab the shampoo from the caddy in front of her carefully, taking caution to not touch her whilst I do. 

I massage the shampoo into her hair, starting at the root, even though you’re meant to start at the ends, I think. Or maybe that’s just conditioner. 

Regardless, Jesy doesn’t seem to mind. She just stands, leaning her head back a bit before she gets a little unsteady on her feet.

“You can just stay straight up,” I tell her. “I’ll make sure I get your whole head.”

“Thanks, Pez,” she murmurs softly, laying a hand on the little shampoo shelf to steady herself. 

I work the shampoo through her hair quickly, but carefully, until it's properly lathered. 

“You can rinse it now,” I tell her. 

“Okay. I’m gonna turn around,” she says.

“Do you want me to turn around too?” I ask sincerely. 

“No, it’s alright,” she says, turning to face me. 

Between the darkness and the steam, I can only just make out her face in front of me. Still, I keep my eyes locked on her face.

She rinses her hair before she turns back around.

I grab the conditioner this time, taking my time to lather it from top to tip. 

“Am I meant to be doing this the other way around?” I ask.

“Like… conditioner first?” She asks. “Is this your way of telling me you accidentally did it backwards, miss  _ apples-shampooing _ , or however you say it? Little Miss Fancy French Conditioner?”

I can’t help but laugh. “It’s  _ après-shampooing _ ,” I say. It comes out a bit Geordie, but I try.

“Well, whatever it is. Have you done it the wrong way round?”

“No, I’ve not,” I tell her, and even I can hear the little grin in my voice. “I’ve done it in perfectly correct order, thank you.”

“What a talent you are,” she says sarcastically. “Doing a two-step process in the correct order. Someone should get you a nobel prize in science or something.”

“Oh, stuff it,” I grumble, though I’m loving every minute of it. 

“What do you mean by the other way then?” She asks after a beat.

“I mean am I meant to be putting it in the other way? Like, root to tip?” I ask, pumping a bit more conditioner out of the bottle. 

“Oh, maybe,” she says. “I always do it this way, though. I think getting that picky is a load of bollocks. It can’t possibly make  _ that _ much difference. Plus, my hair gets dry before it ever gets greasy, so I don’t think it matters so much for me.”

“That’s fair,” I say, massaging the conditioner in at the root. 

“That feels nice,” Jesy says. “I’ve only just realized, but I think that all of my retching has given me quite the headache.”

“I’m sorry,” I say sincerely, going a bit more gently. 

“S’Not your fault,” she says with a snort. “You’re not the one who downed two vodka diet cokes and then six tequila shots.”

“Bloody hell, Jes. Drinkin’ to forget, were we?” I say with a little laugh, before I realize that that’s probably exactly what she was doing and that it’s not funny. “Sorry, I-”

“No, it’s alright,” she says softly. “I was, if you really wanna know. Trying to forget how I was feelin’, how much I missed you.”

“I’m sorry, Jes,” I say. “I- it’s been rough for me too, and I didn’t mean-”

“Really Perrie, it’s alright,” she says, sounding like she means it. “I’m not gonna remember this in the morning anyway, remember?” 

“‘Cos it’s a bad idea?” I ask, knowing she’s currently as sober as she’s been since she got here. Her sleep, while brief, combined with all of the puking, has sobered her right up, I think.

“‘Cos it’s a bad idea,” she affirms. 

Neither of us speaks while I finish massaging in the conditioner. 

“Do you still like to leave it in?” I ask, knowing Jesy treats every condition like it’s a deep condition. 

“Yeah. Just for a bit, though. I’m not sure how much longer I can stay on my feet,” she says, already swaying a bit back and forth. 

I reach out a hand to steady her, and it sets off a chain reaction that just… 

There’s nothing sexual about it, I swear. But it does dredge up a lot of emotions that I’m not quite sure how to control. 

We end up pressed together, Jes leaning back on my shoulder, both my arms wrapped around her waist and hers wrapped over them, holding me to her. 

We stay like that for quite some time, saying nothing, until the conditioner-filled tangle of hair piled atop her head falls onto my shoulder with a loud  _ slop _ .

“Ew,” she says as I laugh through my tears, her throat sounding just as tight as mine. I’m not quite sure when I started crying, but my face is wet with more than just the mist from the shower. 

I wait for Jesy to pull away, our little moment broken, but she doesn’t. Not for a long while.

I’m content.

Once the water starts to go lukewarm, surely on its way to cold, she pulls away from me just a little bit. 

“Suppose I should wash it out before we get frozen out,” she says with a little huff. 

“I’ll wash it out,” I offer, eager to help in any way I can. 

“Alright,” she says, leaning against me a minute. 

I move the two of us forward a bit, until Jes is under the showerhead, bringing a hand up to keep the soap from running into her eyes as I massage out the conditioner with the other hand. 

After a while, I realize that she’s gonna have to turn around to get the conditioner out of the back of her hair. I’ve been working at it for a while, and it’s not coming out. 

“Turn around?” I say, more a question than a command. 

She does, our faces only inches apart when she’s facing me. 

I lift my hands up to keep at the conditioner, the two of us two close for friends. 

I can’t help but snort a little as that thought enters into my mind. 

_ You really think this is what makes you too close for friends, Perrie? How about the shower together? _

I keep at her hair, not stopping until all the conditioner is out and this whole thing starts feeling a little less like helping out a friend and a little more like a prelude to shower sex. 

The shower goes icy just as my thoughts take a turn, like some sort of divine intervention. 

Jes and I both start to squeal and I hurry to flick the shower off, jumping out to grab towels out of the warmer.

“Oh, I forgot you had a towel warmer in the master,” she says as I throw her a towel. 

“I know it’s a bit bougie, but it’s necessary,” I say far too seriously. 

She laughs at me a little, her nose going scrunchy as she does, and I audibly sigh. 

She just smiles at me, letting a gentle hand come up to my face before she drops it just as quickly.

“Sorry,” she says, looking a little embarrassed. “Maybe I ought to get back in the cold shower.”

“Alone?” I ask with a cheeky pout. 

“I think that’s the idea of a cold shower,” she says with a laugh. 

“Shame,” I say, grinning at her. “Do you want a warm towel for your hair, too?”

“Please,” she says. 

Jes towel dries her own hair, but I’m the one who wields the hairdryer. 

Even though its the middle of the night, I take my time, blowing it out slowly and brushing it gently.

I fetch some painkillers from the cupboard once I notice her flinching a bit from the noise, which Jes takes with a grateful  _ thanks, Pezza _ before I finish drying her hair. 

After her hair is nice and dry, I lead her back to bed, the two of us having donned new, puke-free t-shirts. 

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“No,” she says. “I want you to stay with me. All night.”

“Jes…” I start.

“I know, I know, it’s a bad idea. But I’ve had a lot of bad ideas tonight, and they’ve led me here to you, so. Maybe I should act on more of my bad ideas,” she says.

“They also lead to you puking so much that you ended up dry heaving. More than once,” I remind her. 

“It’s worth it,” she says softly, almost like she doesn’t want me to hear. “Please, Pez? I’ll make sure to not remember in the morning, I promise.”

“Jes…” I say again, knowing we’re playing a dangerous game.

“You can sleep on the couch if you really want to,” she says. “But, if you’re not dyin’ to sleep on your far too uncomfortable for how  _ expensive  _ it is leather couch, I’d really like you to stay in here with me.”

In answer, I climb into the bed. 

Jesy follows, the tiniest smile on her lips, though there’s an underlying sadness there as well. 

We settle in easily, Jesy and I spooned together this time, my hands wrapped tight around her waist and our legs bent at nearly the same angle so that we’re pressed up against each other in every way we can be. 

I wake up first in the late morning, the sun already bright overhead and spilling in through the windows by the time I rise. 

We’ve not moved at all while we slept, the two of us still as pressed together as we can be. It’s a bit sweaty where we’re joined, but I don’t mind. The room is cold, so I welcome the heat. 

I bury my nose in Jesy’s hair, pretending that I can smell her hair and appreciate how it smells like me. 

I laugh internally at my own silliness before I separate myself from Jesy, not wanting to make this morning awkward if she wakes up and “doesn’t remember.”

I’ve got the kettle on when she wanders into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. 

“Good mornin’, Darlin’,” I say putting on a bit of an accent and hoping it has the intended effect.

“G’mornin’, Pezza,” she says sweetly, smiling at me. “Thanks for taking care of me last night.”

“‘Course,” I say, pulling the kettle off the stove once it starts to screech. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“I think so,” she says. “Considering all the drinking and all the puking that followed, I think I’m okay now.”

“Good,” I say, busying myself with getting our tea ready. Too much milk for Jes, and too much sugar for me.

I hand her her tea, as well as a bagel that I pull from the toaster.

“You need carbs after last night,” I say, “something to settle your tummy.”

She doesn’t argue, eating half the bagel as she drinks her tea. 

We sip in silence, both of us taking our time to wake up. 

“Listen, Pez,” she starts, “I’m really sorry about last night. I had no right to come over here, and then to keep you up half the night taking care of me… I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

“I don’t mind,” I say, and I find that really, I don’t. “I’m glad you weren’t alone after drinkin’ that much. It would’ve been a rough night.”

“Thanks for taking care of me,” she says softly, holding my gaze.

“‘Course,” I reply, taking a tiny sip of my tea when the eye contact gets to be a bit too much. 

“Pez, do you think-” she starts, before cutting off abruptly.

“Do I think what, baba?” I ask, trying to keep my mind from running wild with theories. It doesn’t work, though. 

She looks at me hesitantly.

“Oh, come on, then,” I say petulantly. “You’re making me sick with anticipation.”

“Sorry,” she says with a little laugh. “I was just wondering if we could maybe… do this again? I mean, minus the me getting sick everywhere part.”

I look up at her, trying to decipher exactly what she means.

“I mean,” she starts, surely reading the question in my eyes,” do you think we could spend some time together? As mates? The whole- you know, everything with us- I know it’s really hard, and confusing, and- well. I miss you. In a lot of ways, but last night, I realized that I miss seeing my best friend. I think- I think I can live with it if we try to let things be like they were before- well, before everything. Like, I miss joking around in the studio, and getting lunch, and coming over here a little too drunk and watching disney movies with you that I pretend not to like. I miss sittin’ by you on the couch and dyin’ laughing together when Jade does her Gail Platt and Leigh tries to copy it. I miss the easy stuff, you know? I didn’t realize, um, how much I was taking for granted until I didn’t have it no more.”

“I’d love that,” I say. And I really would. I want Jes in my life as my girlfriend, my partner, my person, but I’ll take her any way I can get right now. I miss her dearly, and I tell her as much. 

She smiles when I do, and we set tentative plans for next Friday, after we finish recording. 

She leaves with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and for the first time in a while, I feel like things might be okay. 

Or at least okay enough .

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!   
I hope everyone's staying healthy and at least somewhere close to happy!   
I kinda forgot to post this here when I posted it on wattpad (@pesysgirl), so it's a bit late. Sorry!   
It would mean a lot to me if you would review! No pressure, though.   
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Maybe let me know your favorite part?  
Also, I'm always taking oneshot prompts, if anyone wants to submit one of those:)  
I hope you have a swell day, and thanks so much for reading!   
xx  
sydd  
tumblr @ 16sydd16

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello!!!  
We're finally back!! I'm so excited about this sequel😁 Thanks to those of you who read Only You and have been patiently waiting for this sequel to be posted!! It's a bit sad n stuff here at first, just because we've got a LOT of ground to cover, but I think you guys will like where the story goes😉  
I really wanna know what you guys think about the story so far, and where you'd like to see it go!! I do have a very rough outline that I'm working from, but I'd be happy to sneak little extras in here and there for you guys that have been so kind to me:)  
I know many of you are also awaiting and update on Ex, and I promise it's on it's way!! It's just a little short at the minute (I usually like my updates for ex to be about 13-15 pages long, and this one's just not there yet. It's high-key DRAMATIC;) , so it's just taking me a while:)  
Thank you so much for giving this story a shot, and I can't wait for us to really get into it!! Please comment and drop a vote, if you feel like it:)  
As was the case with Only You, this story will just update when I have time. Unlike More Than Words, which I was a solid 50+ pages into writing before I started posting, Nothing Else Matters is just a write and post situation. What you guys are reading write now is what I have written. Chapter two is about 2 paragraphs long at this point😬, but right now I'm feeling the inspiration with this story! I wrote the last 7 pages of this today, in fact, and here it is, already ready for your eyeballs😝 I will try to update as often as possible, and I appreciate you guys being so understanding!!  
If you want some Pesy to read in the meantime, I have a Pesy one shot book (which I am currently taking prompts for, so if you'd like to see a specific Pesy one shot, pop over to that story and leave a comment👀), a pesy!baby fic called More Than Words that updates weekly (on Tuesdays), another Pesy fic called Ex, and of course, I have (no one else can fix me) Only You, this book's predecessor.  
Thank you so much for giving my writing a chance, and I hope you've enjoyed!! 
> 
> xx 
> 
> sydd
> 
> come say hi on tumblr @16sydd16 :)


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